To the Max (44 page)

Annie still had nightmares about the day Lizzie was born. She’d been exhausted, Max injured. Both totally unprepared to bring a baby into the world. If something had gone wrong, they could have lost Lizzie. The mere thought gave her shivers.

“Jonah is the spitting image of James,” she said. “Tate said the only thing that proved the baby was half hers were the perineal stitches. And the pale-blue eyes.”

The baby was blond, his features clearly Bowen.

Max laughed. “That’s our Tate.”

She stared at Lizzie, who, at the moment, was less interested in eating than fussing around. She had dark hair and hazel eyes. She was beautiful, but a Bowen she was not.

“She’s your spitting image, Ace,” Max pointed out as if reading her mind, gesturing to the baby in her arms. “That’s enough for me. I couldn’t love her any more if she looked like me. And I couldn’t love her mother more either.”

“I know,” she mumbled, fighting to keep her tears at bay. She hoped her hormones would soon go back to normal, because she was all over the place.

Max doted on her and Lizzie nonstop. A week before Jonah had been born, her grandmother had organized a big party in honor of Lizzie’s birth and Annie and Max’s marriage. Elizabeth Patricia Vaughan’s introduction to society. Max had put up with everything without a word, even though she knew the last thing he’d wanted was to dress up and listen to people make small talk.

“Not hungry, our Lizzie,” he said as the baby started playing with her nipple.

“I swear she does it on purpose. She knows if she doesn’t eat enough, we’ll give her the bottle. You’ll give her the bottle,” she corrected herself. Because whenever Annie tried to feed her daughter from a bottle, Lizzie refused to drink. Max would take her, cradle her in his arms, say two words, and Lizzie would calm down and eat. She enjoyed so much being with him.

He smirked. “Daddy’s girl.”

Yes, she was, from the top of her cute head to the tips of her tiny toes.

His cell beeped. He reached for it and slid it open. “I got some pictures from the guys at Arctic Man.”

Max had been going to that race in Alaska for five years. It had started a couple of days ago. He put the cell in front of her and showed her the pics. Some crazy, crazy stuff. “This is from the Iron Dog race,” he explained. “The whole festival is amazing.”

“You should have gone,” she said. “I can manage by myself with Lizzie.”

He kissed Annie’s neck. “I know you can manage, Ace, but I don’t want to go without you. Maybe the three of us could go next year. I would love to take you and Lizzie for a quiet ride on a snowmobile.”

“Okay.”

“They have cabins to rent. It would be very romantic,” he whispered in her ear.

And on that note… Annie cleared her throat, already blushing. “Max, remember two weeks ago when we were at the doctor’s?”

“Yes?”

“That was my six-week postnatal check. If nothing else comes up, that was the last visit.”

“I know.”

Man, she was not being explicit enough.

“It’s been over eight weeks now. We can…you know, have sex if you want to.”

“I know, baby. I read all the books you read too.”

His silence was killing her, so she gathered her courage. “You…you don’t want to?”

“You fucking kidding me? “ he said, his intense eyes searing her. “I’m dying to have you. I’m hard all the time. Haven’t you noticed?”

“You haven’t said a word,” she whispered.

He’d kissed and caressed her these past two months, telling her how much he loved her, but they hadn’t been intimate in any way, and when she’d tried to pleasure him, he hadn’t let her.

“I was worried you didn’t want me to touch you,” she admitted, lowering her gaze. “That you didn’t want to have sex with me.”

He tipped her face up. “Baby, I didn’t want to pressure you. Or risk going all feral on you. That’s why I tried to keep you at bay until I was given the all-clear from you.”

“I’m ready, so if you want to—”

Before she could finish the sentence, he’d gathered her in his arms and was lifting her. “Hold on to the baby, love.”

In two seconds, they were in their bedroom. Max set her on her feet and took Lizzie from her. “I’m feeding her and putting her to bed. You have fifteen minutes to get ready.” And he strode out with the baby.

Annie gulped and, taking her nightgown, went to the bathroom. She should have expected this kind of response from him, but the truth of the matter was, she hadn’t.

She got naked and looked at herself in the mirror. Jeez, she needed to sign up for Kyra’s classes. All of them. Her body hadn’t bounced back from giving birth. She had fifteen extra pounds on her, and by the looks of it, they weren’t going anywhere. She was not glowing anymore; her lips weren’t rosy, nor her eyes sparkly. She was too white and had blue under her eyes. In spite of how her boobs had grown during the pregnancy, she didn’t have too much milk. Or maybe she did but Lizzie wasn’t drinking enough, so she’d started producing less. Be that as it may, her breasts had all but gone back to their normal size.

Her earlier excitement was deflating by the second. She should have kept her big mouth shut. Given herself some leeway before being intimate with Max.

She wasn’t getting cold feet—they were getting frostbite. She put on the nightie, but then she grabbed the bathrobe and covered herself with it. She was dying to feel him inside her, and he’d seen her in much more compromising situations, like giving birth, but still. She couldn’t help being insecure.

“Time’s up,” she heard Max saying from the other side of the door.

Yes, her time was up. And why she hadn’t secured more for herself, like another month, she didn’t know.

She drew in a calming breath and came out, clutching at her robe, to find him standing barefoot and bare chested, commando, his jeans unbuttoned and riding low on his hips. His legs were braced apart, his arms crossed.

She stared at him. God, he was breathtaking. “Max…”

“Ace, we’re not back to this again, are we?” he asked, gesturing at her clothes.

“Do you remember when I told you that my body knew we were manless and was pulling out all the stops to catch a husband before the baby was born? Well, the gig is up, and I’m back to normal.”

Max closed his eyes and started laughing. “You’re nuts.”

“No, I’m not. I don’t glow anymore. My lips are dry, my eyes sunken and surrounded by black. Not to mention my boobs, which are…not there anymore.”

He cupped her face and caressed her cheeks. “You’re gorgeous. You glow; you’ve always glowed. Your mouth is perfect, like always. Your eyes too.” He brushed her lips with his and then moved his hand to the opening of the robe, skimming his fingers over the swells of her breasts. “They’ve gone nowhere, baby. You forget I watch you feeding Lizzie all the time? I’ve seen them. You’re just not thinking clearly because you’re tired. We had a baby. She demands a lot, especially from you.”

“She demands a lot from you too.” He’d been with her every step of the way, day in and day out, yet he looked like a rose. Heck, they were at the end of April, in Boston, and he was naturally tan. Explain that.

“Baby, I didn’t carry her for months. I didn’t give birth to her.”

Maybe, but she couldn’t have done it without him.

“I just looked at myself in the mirror and realized my naked body is not so hot. My stomach is pouchy, and I have stretch marks. They might not go away. I’ll—”

His expression was forbidding. “Not a word more, Ace. You’re starting to piss me off. If you want us to wait more before having sex, we will. As much as I’m dying to be inside you, I don’t want you hurting or uncomfortable. I’m okay just giving you pleasure with my hands and mouth and holding you tight in my arms. I love you. I can wait. But I won’t have you keeping me at bay because of those moronities you just mentioned.”

She couldn’t look him straight in the face. “I just want you to be ready. I don’t want you to be disappointed.”

He snorted and pointed at his huge erection. “Do I look like I’m disappointed? Or that I don’t want you?”

No, he didn’t, and it was about time she realized it herself.

“I love you, Max.”

The tension in his face dissipated. “I love you too, Ace.”

She undressed slowly, her robe pooling at her feet while he ate her with his eyes. There was lust in his gaze. And love. There was not disappointment. No rejection.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous.”

She reached for him and caressed his chest, stopping at the little scar on his side.

“It doesn’t hurt,” he whispered, covering her hand with his. “And you know what? I will wear it proudly. That’s the day Lizzie was born. I wouldn’t have wanted to be anywhere else than where I was.”

She nodded and kissed the scar, afraid if she attempted to talk, she would start crying. She pulled his jeans down, then knelt in front of him, nuzzling his shaft.

“Baby,” Max groaned, tensing.

She loved him with her hands and her mouth, finally understanding what giving head was about: getting pleasure by giving it to her lover. Making him shudder and grunt and beg. Cherishing his surrender. She understood that now, with Max.

He was trembling, his fingers sinking into her hair. Much too soon, he stopped her. “Ace, don’t. I want you too badly. You can suck me all you want, but later.”

Max took her to the bed. Never breaking eye contact, he moved on top of her. He kissed her all over her face and then her tits, grazing the skin around her nipples with his teeth and blowing at them.

She jerked, her core flexing.

“Are they as sensitive as they were while you were pregnant?”

She shook her head. “Not as much.” Her breath caught in her throat as he licked one tip. “But still more than before the pregnancy. Don’t faint if I start shooting milk when I come.” She was leaking a lot less with the decrease in milk production, but she was crazy turned on, her breasts hard, her nipples already throbbing. And she’d read that discharges weren’t uncommon while orgasming.

He spoke against her skin. “I won’t. I find it extremely sexy that you leak. Those circles on your shirts. Besides, who says women can fake orgasms whenever they want? Try faking milk shooting from your boobs.”

Annie giggled softly. “You’re impossible.”

“So you keep saying.” He licked her breasts until she was feverish, then he moved lower. “I need your taste in my mouth, Ace. It’s been too long. Open up for me.”

She obeyed him, spreading for his perusal. Max always said the right things, made her feel loved and safe.

He had stopped her, fearing he would lose it. Well, she was no better. In no time, with him kissing and lapping at her folds, she was tugging at him and begging.

“Max, I need you inside me. Now.”

“Hold on a second.” He reached for the nightstand and got a condom. “I don’t want anything between us, and I wouldn’t have a problem having another baby right away, but I figured you may want to wait a bit.”

Clever boy. She took the condom from his hand and threw it behind her. “No condoms.”

He stared at her, questioningly. “Annie, I know breast-feeding only works as a reliable contraceptive if the baby doesn’t drink any formula. You could get pregnant.”

“I had an IUD implanted when I went for the postnatal checkup. Totally safe for the baby while breast-feeding. We’re good for up to five years.”

“I’m going to want babies earlier than that. Much earlier.”

She knew. “We’ll have it removed as soon as the horrifying experience of passing a baby through my pussy without any kind of painkillers is fuzzy in my mind.”

In all truth, it was getting very fuzzy very fast. Amazing how the pain and the panic had already begun to blur. The only thing she remembered was having Lizzie in her arms. And Max by her side.

“I’ll hold you to that,” he said with a possessive smile.

“Do you want to go for the sex swing?”

He shook his head categorically. “Missionary position. I’ve been dreaming about it for months.”

“Missionary it is,” she whispered.

He entered her slowly, kissing her, until he was fully seated in her and her core was pulsing around him.

Max leaned his forehead against her, his breath labored, his body tense. “Fuck, baby. You feel so damn good. So hot. It’s been so long and I want you so much, I’m afraid I’m going to blow right away.”

“Fuck me. Not an inch of space between us,” she whispered, returning his words.

He cursed, his expression tight with desire, and began moving inside her, while she wrapped her arms around him. Her legs too, and took everything he had to give, relishing his weight on her, his thrusts. His chest rubbing at her sensitive nipples. He felt so damn good.

Annie clenched her pussy around him, drawing it upward, tightening and releasing the muscles slowly, holding the contractions for as long as she could, sucking his cock deeper inside her.

Max hissed. “Oh fuck, what are you doing?”

“Kegel magic. Pelvic-floor exercises. Been practicing since Liz was born.” She was going to ask him if he liked it, but his face said it all.

“So fucking tight. Squeezing me like a vise. Milking my cock.”

He was sweating and gritting his teeth, all his muscles bulging. “Fuck, Ace. I’m going to come.”

She knew. She could feel him inside her, jerking and swelling even more, but it was as well, because she was already going off like a rocket, her pussy clamped in a sharp contraction. She held on to him for dear life, coming herself.

After climaxing in each other’s arms, he rolled them to their sides and they stayed like that, intertwined, for a very long time.

She spoke against his chest. “Max?”

“Mmmm?”

“Remember everything in the books about loss of sex drive after giving birth? Or the possibility of not enjoying sex as much as before?”

He stilled. “Yes?”

“So not true.”

Max’s chuckle reverberated through her body.

She wanted to savor the moment—her husband inside her, wrapped around her—but she soon fell asleep, her face on his chest, listening to his heart.

At some point, she heard Lizzie crying through the baby monitor.

“I’ll take care of this,” Max said. “You sleep, my love.” He got up, put some boxers on, and left the room.