Page 2

It was the best kiss of my life, and I couldn’t believe I had to turn thirty-two to get it. Or that it was Max who kissed me like he knew exactly what I needed and how to get me to do what he asked.

I’d never letanyonetake the lead. Never until now. And it felt so fucking good.

I urged my hips to his, desperate for some friction. He answered my plea.

Max was a little taller, again a brand new experience—there weren’t a lot of women taller than me. Yet, somehow I enjoyed being the shorter one. I enjoyed having to tilt up my face to kiss him. And the way he pressed me into the wall was so hot.

Why is he so strong?

I was sure I had thirty pounds of muscle on him. At least. Yet every touch made me aware of his strength.

Cupping my jaw, he pushed my chin down with a thumb and tilted my head to deepen the kiss. I had loved that first gentlekiss, loved the way he felt, and loved how he tasted. This fierce kiss? It set fire to my soul.

Max’s other hand slid down my back and rested on my ass.

I shouldn’t like this. It shouldn’t make me hard or horny.

His elegant fingers massaged my glute and pressed my body closer to his.

Fuck.

I didn’t just like this. I loved it. With a gasp, I broke the kiss, panting like a dog in summer.

“Max,” I groaned, not knowing what to say or do. But sure, quite sure, I couldn’t leave this room and pretend it never happened.

This kiss changes everything.

I thought he would keep going, and I wanted him to. I needed his mouth back on mine. But we had to be at the feast.

How much time has passed?

It could have been an eternity for all I knew.

“I’ll see you down at the restaurant,” I told him in a shaky voice.God, you’re so far gone.“You look great, by the way.”

Max stepped back from me, his eyes roaming over my face. Darkness swirled in their depths. He dug his teeth into his red lips. They were swollen from the scratch of my beard and our kisses. He didn’t look ‘great’; he was stunningly beautiful. My dick thickened even more, testing the limits of my smart trousers. I spun on the spot, fiddled with the door handle for a moment, and ran from the room.

I slid into a niche near the women’s bathrooms on our floor, hiding behind an antique wardrobe. I pressed my back to the wall so that I would be invisible to anyone who walked past and tried to catch my breath.

Max… From the moment I’d laid eyes on him, I had been intrigued in a way I had never been by anything or anyone before. Except by hockey, maybe.

Damn. His curls had been as soft as I’d imagined. For days, I had wondered how they would feel and had creeped on him when we worked out. I had imagined how I’d run into him in an empty gym—no idea how that fantasy had built up. It was my favourite. Just the two of us and the lights dimmed. Max put his hair into a half bun for workouts. Stray curls escaped it every time, making him scowl at his hair and impatiently tuck them back into the hair tie. It was the cutest thing in the world. Yet, in my fantasy I stopped him from fixing his hair. Instead, I freed it from the bun and buried my hands in the curls, springy and glossy with sweat.

That mental image had kept me up at night.

Up and hard. You’re still hard, you dick.

The rest of Max intrigued me as much as those pretty curls did—his dark, strangely active eyes, his chiselled profile, the plush lips, and his smiles. They were rare, but when Max smiled, it was like the sun peeking through the clouds on a gloomy day. I still didn’t know what kind of creature he was, but good God, he was so beautiful. The gleaming black feathers covering his entire body from the neck down had earned him his nickname from the team.

My raven.

He kissed you.

I am so screwed.

Two

Max