Page 59 of Can We Skip to the Good Part?

For the next sixty minutes, Ella did her best to listen intently to the back-and-forth, picking up where they left off before Max’s momentous arrival.

Olive thought the sex scenes were too tepid.

Morgan loved the wallflower who came into herself by the end of the book and learned how to stand up for what she wanted.

Stevie liked the wine that Ariana brought.

All the while, Ella felt Max’s gaze on her and could barely string two coherent thoughts together.

Every time Max shifted in her seat, whether stretching her legs out, propping an ankle casually on her knee, or running her thumb slowly around the rim of her wineglass, Ella’s body reacted like she’d been touched.

She tried to nod at Morgan’s point about too many characters, offer something intelligent about secondary arcs, maybe even agree with Olive’s hatred of food descriptions just to get the conversation moving.

But Max kept watching her with that look, like she already knew exactly what Ella wanted, and was in absolutely no rush to give it to her.

She knew what she was doing, and it was torture.

At one point, Ella caught Max briefly touch her tongue to her bottom lip. It was completely silent. Devastating. Thirty-two minutes. She could survive thirty-two minutes.

Ella gripped the stem of her wineglass like it might anchor her to the earth. She offered a vague comment about pacing, suggesting that it could have been more varied. She pretended not to notice the deliberate way Max’s hair fell in haphazard waves after she ran her fingers through it.

Eighteen minutes, she informed herself.

Now seventeen.

But by the time Ariana stood to stretch and suggest they all call it a night, Ella was already halfway out of her chair, carrying a handful of empty glasses into the kitchen.

After helping to tidy up, she said a quick goodbye and stalked to the door with intention. She didn’t wait to see if Max followed.

She already knew she would.

She hadn’t even touched Ella yet, not really, and already Max felt like every inch of restraint she’d practiced tonight was unraveling now that they were alone.

The lights were still off when they’d fallen into the condo, keys fumbling in her shaky hands.

That is, except for one lonely lamp in the living room that cast a quiet glow into the entryway where Max had Ella pressed up against the wall.

She wanted to go fast. Everything in her longed to tear away the fabric separating their bodies, but she refused to rush this much-anticipated moment.

She brought her mouth to Ella’s, who kissed her back like she was starving.

Her tongue was in Ella’s mouth, which was so goddamned satisfying it made every part of her curl into itself.

The sound Ella made when Max’s fingers slid under her shirt was going to live in Max’s bloodstream forever.

With every murmur and moan, Max reveled.

The heated skin beneath Max’s fingertips, smooth and sensitive, begged to be explored.

Kissed. Worshipped. She pulled her lips away from Ella’s, but only so she could kiss the side of her neck, intoxicated by the familiar scent of her orange blossom shampoo.

Home . Because how many times had she buried her face in Ella’s hair?

“Touch me,” Ella said quietly, cradling the back of Max’s neck, her fingers threaded through her hair. “Right against this wall.”

She was already unbuttoning Ella’s jeans. When her fingers slid into the wet warmth of her underwear, she closed her eyes and moaned. This was everything. Ella began to roll her hips, her head tossed back, hair tickling Max’s arms as she held Ella around the waist.

“You feel so fucking good,” Ella managed.

Max let her set the pace, matching her rhythm, sliding through slick folds, grazing her clit again and again until it was clear Ella hovered just near the edge, desperation swarming her.

She bucked her hips, pressing into Max more and more with each thrust until finally she cried out loudly, the dam having broken.

Her features relaxed as she rode the waves of pleasure in a display that caused warmth to spread in Max’s chest.

“That was inspired,” Ella said. “I needed that from you and that damned wall for over an hour now.”

“I’m not exactly done yet,” Max said, reclaiming her hand and finding Ella’s lips for another searing kiss.

It took three-point-four seconds to usher Ella into her bedroom around the corner and another two to press her back to the mattress.

Knowing how turned on Ella got when Max undressed for her, she took her time and showed off the new lingerie set she’d purchased in case such an occasion presented itself.

“Your breasts should be in history books,” Ella said once they were out, going up on her forearms to take in the view. “But that would mean I’d have to share them, and there’s no chance of that.”

Wearing only the matching red underwear, she crawled onto the bed and on top of Ella, who needed no encouragement.

As Max leaned over her, Ella pulled a nipple into her mouth, holding her breast in place from beneath.

Ella moved to the other breast, paying equal attention. She was nothing if not fair.

“I want you out of these clothes,” Max said.

“Okay, Counselor,” Ella teased, a slow grin spreading as she sat up and pulled her shirt over her head.

Max’s breath caught at the sight of her. She loved the confidence, the comfort, the way the light skimmed the tops of her breasts. They made quick work of the rest of Ella’s clothes, each movement efficient but reverent, like unwrapping something cherished.

Just as she began to lower herself, Ella’s hand pressed gently to her shoulder, stopping her.

“Hey. I love you,” she said softly, brushing her thumb across Max’s cheek.

Max leaned into the touch. “I love you, too. So damn much.” Her voice cracked at the edges of it, truth slipping through all her defenses. She wouldn’t hold back her emotions from Ella anymore. All cards on the table. She loved this woman and would spend every second showing her.

They kissed, slow and sure. Max cradled Ella’s face for a moment, memorizing it—then deepened the kiss as Ella’s body arched toward hers. Her hand found Ella’s breast, thumb brushing across soft skin, and she pressed her thigh between Ella’s legs, feeling the shift as tenderness gave way to need.

“Ahem.” Ella tilted her head in the direction of Max’s red, lacy underwear, the last of the clothing between them.

“Oh, you want these off?”

Her eyes were dark. “How am I supposed to properly fuck you with them on?”

Max sucked in air. “I love it when you talk like that. It does intense things to me.”

“Yeah?” Ella pulled Max into a scorching kiss that left her dizzy. “Well, there’s a lot more where that came from. I have definite plans.”

“Not until I make you whimper. It’s my favorite sound of yours.” She leaned her mouth very close to Ella’s ear. “Turn around.”

Ella’s breath hitched, but she did as she was told, her movements fluid, trusting. Max’s hands slid down the curve of her back, slow and deliberate, until they rested at her hips.

“God, look at you,” Max murmured, more reverence than command now. “You have no idea what you do to me.” The sight of Ella like that—on all fours, bare, waiting, already trembling with want—nearly unraveled her.

Ella glanced over her shoulder, flushed. “Then show me.”

Max pressed a kiss to the base of her spine. “Tell me if anything’s too much,” she murmured. Another soft kiss, as she caressed Ella’s very smooth ass.

Ella looked back over her shoulder, eyes heavy with heat. “The only thing too much is not having you inside me.”

That sent a jolt straight through Max’s core. She reached between Ella’s thighs, teasing her with fingers, building the pressure until Ella’s hips rolled against her, seeking more. When Max finally entered her, Ella let out a sound that landed somewhere between a gasp and a moan.

Max placed one hand on Ella’s hip and, with the other, moved with slow, controlled thrusts, watching the way Ella’s body responded to every shift and grind. She was so expressive, so open, it undid Max completely.

Max kept her rhythm steady, each thrust angled with intention, her free hand sliding around to stroke Ella exactly the way she liked. The combination made Ella arch back into her, a litany of soft, breathy moans falling from her lips.

“Just like that,” Ella gasped. “Don’t stop.”

Max pressed a kiss between her shoulder blades, her own breathing ragged. “I’ve got you.”

Ella’s hands fisted the sheets. Her whole body trembled, so close, so ready. Max could feel the shift in her, the way tension coiled tight in her core.

“Let go,” Max whispered. “Come for me.”

And Ella did, her body clenching around Max’s fingers as a cry tore from her throat, high and broken and beautiful. Max held her through it, slowing her movements but never letting go, her own heart thundering.

“That was so good,” Ella said, breathless and falling onto her side.

Max met her there so they were lying face-to-face. She touched Ella’s cheek with her fingertips. “Do you know how much I’ve missed this? How much I’ve missed you?”

“I’m starting to understand,” Ella said, brushing a strand of hair off of Max’s forehead. “Come here,” Ella said, pulling Max to her. “I want you close.”

“You’ll always have me close, Ella.”

Ella wrapped her arms around Max and held on, savoring the overflowing emotion, the well of feelings, the love. “I’m so in love with you, Max. There’s nothing that compares.”

“I love you, too,” Max said, kissing her softly, thoroughly, like they had all the time in the world, and they did.