Lovers at Heart (7 page)

“That’s it. Come for me,” he whispered as she came down from her beautiful orgasm.

He turned her around, her eyes heavy with desire, and he kissed her again, probing, tasting, and devouring her, unable to get enough of her. She reached for his pants and unbuttoned them in one quick effort.

“Good Lord. Let me just look at you,” he said in a deep, leg-numbing voice. She was so perfectly feminine, so contradictory to the woman who’d been standing on the car earlier, taking charge of the world before her. How could he have ever done anything to hurt her?

“Treat,” she whispered. She wiggled her finger, motioning for him to come even closer; then she dropped to the edge of the bed, wearing nothing but a black lacy thong, and in the space of a second, she’d freed him from his boxer briefs and pulled his hips in close.

“Max,” he said. “Let me—”

She shook her head and took him into her mouth.

MAX WAS LOST in a game of pleasure. She’d never been so open with a man before. She hardly knew him at all, but she felt so connected to him that she didn’t want to turn away. The way he touched her without rushing, with total focus on pleasuring her. For once, she wanted to follow her heart. As Max took him in her mouth, she felt like she’d known him for years. His skin was salty, sweet…familiar.

He wrapped his fingers in her hair as she drew him in and out of her mouth, licking his tip in slow circles, then drawing him back in again. He groaned and pulled her head back, watching her as he drew himself away from her lips. Looking deep into her eyes, he said only one word, and the intense desire behind that word robbed her of any coherent thoughts.

“Max.”

With one hand still wrapped around the width of him, and shivering with the delight of having brought him so much pleasure, Max slid out of her thong.

Treat slipped his hands under her arms and lifted her like she was as light as a feather until her legs were once again wrapped around his waist. She held on to his neck as he reached for the dresser, kissing her while he grabbed the square plastic package he must have set there and tossed it onto the bed.

He laid her on her back, his legs between hers, the hunger in his eyes mirroring the lust racing through her body. She reached for the package and he stopped her, then covered her breasts with his hands and lowered his mouth to her hip. Max sank back into the bed and closed her eyes as he licked a path from her hip to the top of her thigh, then slid his strong hands down her ribs to her hips again. He was so strong, so masculine, and she felt small within his hands. He squeezed her hips, licking the insides of her thighs, stopping short of the heat that was ready and waiting for him, then kissed a path back up, around her curls, to the delicate skin just above. Every nerve was heightened beneath his moist kisses. Max arched her hips.
Lick me. Touch me.
He splayed his hands on her thighs and squeezed softly.

He spread her legs gently apart and licked the tender skin beside her luscious folds. Max clenched the comforter in her fists. He was drawing every nerve to the surface. She was so close—she shifted her hips, hoping to catch a flick of his tongue, but he held her leg down as he teased her, licking up and down the skin between her thigh and her sex. He rolled her over so that she was lying on her belly and took her ass in his hands, then ran his tongue in the crease above her legs. Every inch of Max’s skin was on fire, almost numb. She’d never been loved so completely before, never had anyone touch every inch of her flesh. He ran his hands up the sides of her hips and ribs, then dragged his body along hers until she felt the length of him against her rear. His tongue was hot and wet on the back of her neck; his hands grasped at her hair as he moved in a slow rhythm against her. Every touch of his hands was erotic; every breath against her skin sent her pulse racing. He took her earlobe in her mouth, then whispered, “I never want this evening to end.”

The combination of his moist tongue and the passion in his voice had her shuddering beneath him. He kissed down the length of her spine, squeezing her ribs gently, each pulse heightening her arousal. He kissed the flesh of her right cheek, then the backs of her thighs as he drew them apart slowly and slid his two fingers inside her again. Max sucked in a breath, arching her bottom into the air just enough to give him better access. He slid them in and out painfully slowly, lingering over the spot that made her toes curl under and her insides reach for him. In the next breath, Max was writhing beneath him, his powerful arm holding her tightly around her hips as she bucked against his hand.

She mourned the retreat of his fingers, craving more of him as he turned her back over. Max panted, trying to make her brain functional again, but she was so far gone, and he was licking, kissing, caressing her body until she thought she might burst.

“Show me how to love you,” he whispered.

Max closed her eyes. She couldn’t.

He ascended her body until they were eye to eye. Max could feel his hard shaft against her. God, she wanted him inside of her.

“Make love to me,” she whispered.

He smiled. “Show me how you want me to love you.”

Max turned away, feeling the heat of a blush rushing up her cheeks.

He took her hand and drew it down to her center. “Show me,” he said.

Max reached for him instead and pulled him close. She wanted to show him—oh, how she wanted to show him the ways she’d learned to touch herself while fantasizing about him late at night, alone in her bedroom—but she couldn’t. She wouldn’t. She reached for the condom again, and this time he took it from her fingers and opened it with his teeth, then slid it on.

Yes. Take me. Love me
.

Max slid down, taking all of him in. His girth sent a shock through her loins. Powerless to hide her surprise, or the smile that tugged on her cheeks, she grinned like a fool in his beautiful arms, moving at a slow, even rhythm. She expected his strength to overpower her, his muscles to squeeze her too tightly as he held on. Instead, his grasp was gentle, his thrusts slow and even.

“Nothing has ever felt so right,” he said. He looked directly into her eyes with an intense gaze. “Max, I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. You can trust me.”

Fear crept into Max’s mind.
Trust me.
This was the same man who’d made her feel dirty and cheap at the resort.
Go away. Stop.
She tried to push the awful thoughts aside. She didn’t want the overwhelming sensation of being intimate with him to end. But she couldn’t escape the tightening of her nerves or the memories from Nassau that were rushing into her mind, blocking her pleasure, sounding off like warning bells. She looked into his eyes, now so full of desire, but as quickly as she saw his beauty, she remembered the disgusted look cast from those dark, sensuous eyes—the one that confirmed what she’d already been feeling—that she had acted cheap and trampy. She froze beneath him, caught in a web of insatiable desire and fear.

“Max?”

She couldn’t speak. She lay beneath him, staring at him. How could he be the same man who had hurt her? And yet…he was. She pushed at his chest and he jumped off her—quickly.

“Max, what is it? Did I hurt you? I tried to go slow—”

Max shook her head, pulling the covers up and covering her body. “This was a mistake.” Her voice trembled. “We shouldn’t have…” She pulled her knees in to her chest, would disappear if she could. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…”

The hurt in his eyes was all-consuming as he stood in all his masculine magnificence and pulled on his clothes, never looking away from her. “Why? What changed?”

Max turned away, her body still shuddering from his touch, her heart unwilling to let him go.

“Max, if this is about what happened at the resort, I tried to talk to you about that before we…before we came together.”

Max felt her heart cracking inside her chest. She’d felt so connected to him, so overwhelmingly happy. She wanted him like she’d never desired another man in her life, and yet he was the man who had hurt her and walked away. Just like…No. She’d promised herself she would never even think of
him
again.

She stood and pulled a T-shirt from her drawer, then went into the bathroom and washed up, hoping he would leave.

When she came back out, he was sitting in the living room, fully dressed, his elbows resting on his knees, his face in his hands. He stood when she came into the room.

“Max, please. Let’s talk about this.”

“Can you take me to get my car please?”
Damn it
. Why hadn’t she driven separately? She’d been too hung up in the moment of being with a man like Treat. What an idiot she was. The last thing she wanted was to be trapped in a truck with him for twenty minutes, but she was expected at the festival early tomorrow morning, and she had no one else to take her. She never should have allowed herself the fantasy of waking up in his arms, or forgetting—even for a moment—how he’d made her feel in Nassau.

She grabbed her keys and purse, and he followed her down to his SUV. She cringed when he opened the door for her, then waited until she stepped in and closed the door gently. She could do with some door slamming, yelling, loud music, anything to release the tension, anger, and loneliness that ate away at her insides.

“Max, can we at least talk?”

Max stared out the window. She didn’t want to hear his excuses. She’d heard enough excuses for a lifetime.

“If you won’t talk, will you at least listen? Please?”

When she didn’t respond, he continued. “When I first saw you at the resort, I felt something. I don’t know what it was exactly, but it scared me.”

Max laughed under her breath.
Scared you? You expect me to believe that? A man like you?

“I didn’t know what to do with my instant attraction to you. I mean, I’ve been attracted to women before, but with you it was different. I wanted to take care of you. I wanted to lo—”

Max closed her eyes. There was no way he was going to say
love you
. No. No way possible. Maybe
look into your eyes
, but not
love you
.

“I had never felt anything so powerful. Then, before I had a chance to even process what I was feeling, or why, there you were, in the same clothes as the night before, when you were with…I can’t even say his name it makes me so mad.”

“You have no right to be mad about anything I do,” Max snapped. Though a little piece of her was secretly flattered. She couldn’t remember the last time a man had noticed her in that way.

“You’re right, and I knew it then.” His voice took on a shamed, soft tone. “When I looked at you.”

Max winced, feeling the pain all over again from that one degrading look. Thankfully, he pulled into the parking lot and she climbed from the truck, keys in hand.

“Max.”

“Listen. All I want to do right now is bury my face in a big chocolate cake and forget tonight ever happened.” She took one last long look at him and turned away, trying to keep her splintering heart from shattering.

TREAT’S CELL PHONE rang at eight o’clock the next morning. He fumbled with it, hoping it was Max, and answered without looking at the number. “Hello?”

“Since when do you leave your little sister at a party?”

Savannah
. “You had Hugh to drive you home.”

“Hugh? Hugh! Hugh was too busy with supernova to even think about me. Lucky for you, Connor’s driver was free.” Savannah was trying to sound annoyed, but Treat knew her better than that. She was really fishing for information.

“Honey, I’m sorry about last night. I just went to sleep a few hours ago. Can I call you later?”

“So? How did it go with Max? I saw you two leaving looking at each other like you couldn’t wait to eat each other alive.”

“Nice talk from my baby sister,” Treat said with a smile. He draped his arm over his eyes and sighed. “I gotta go, Savannah. Love you.” As always, he waited for her to say goodbye. No matter how mad Treat was at any of his siblings, he never hung up on them. His mother’s death had been a painful reminder that he never knew just when he’d see or talk to them for the last time.

His bedroom door swung open. “Hey, asshole. You gonna get up and help Dad today or what?” Despite his harsh words, Rex was smiling.

“Rex? What the hell?”

“Just sayin’.” Rex left the door open, his obnoxious way of saying,
If I’m not resting, neither are you
.

Treat pulled his exhausted body from the bed and trudged across the room to the bathroom. He’d taken that short walk a million times before, and never had it felt so lonely. He leaned over the sink and looked at himself in the mirror—really looked at himself. The dark eyes, tousled hair, and perfectly golden tan had always served him well with women. Treat knew what he looked like compared to most men. He appreciated the genes he and his siblings had been blessed with, and even though he appreciated it, he acknowledged the fact that he’d abused that gift for a very long time. Now, as he struggled to look past the beautiful exterior, to see what Max had seen, he found that he didn’t have to dig very deep. He saw the jealous, scared man who had given her a look of revulsion. He’d been aware of the look even as it settled onto his face like a mask. He’d known the hurt it would cause, and he’d still let it come through.