Page 195 of Headstrong Like Us

I frown. “Something happen?”

“I just got an email from our lawyer.” His shoulders constrict, standing rigid. “Scottie’s having a parole hearing next week, and our lawyer is pretty positive the court will shorten his sentence. He’s going to get out of prison way sooner than we thought, Farrow.”

I rub my mouth. “Shit.” I’ve wanted to wait to tell this other fucked-up thing to Maximoff. At least until we were back in Philly, but he deserves to hear this now. “Donnelly’s dad called me.”

“What, when?”

“Two nights ago.”

Maximoff has this toughened concern on his face. Fortified. “What’d he say?”

I run my tongue over my molars. “He implied that Scottie would be willing to give up parental rights for a price.”

“That soundsillegal.”

“No shit.” I expel a breath. “I’m not even completely sure they’re after money. Could be drugs or both.”

I wish Donnelly’s dad made that phone call while he was in prison. It would’ve been recorded. Most of the time, he’s careful with his wording. But he was really fucking blunt.

Maximoff stares far off at the wall. “So Donnelly’s dad is now involved in this mess.”

“We had a feeling he already was,” I remind him. “All we can do is take Scottie to court.”

His eyes narrow on me. “I’m hiring the best damn lawyers in the country. I’m not letting Ripley live with someone who’susinghim.”

I nod and look him over, in love with Maximoff all fucking over again. We understand that we might lose the fight for this baby. He might not be ours in the end, and it’ll bedevastating.But Maximoff has to try, with everything in his soul.

And I’m not giving up hope.

“We’re,” I correct him. “I’m right by your side.”

He yanks me close, and we kiss, slower. Strung with deep emotion that cradles and hugs. More forceful as our hands clench. He grips my hair, and I slide my palm across the back of his hot neck.

Fuck.

Tendons pull taut in my sweltering body. I nudge his lips apart in a sensual kiss, and an aching, rough noise scratches out of his throat. His gaze screams,love me, fuck me, never leave me.

Breath catches in my lungs, and we slam together, speeding up. Our tongues wrestle, and I rip his button-down open. He tears the sleeves off my arms.

Unclothing each other at a rapid-fire, forceful pace.

Our mouths welded, I undo his slacks and yank them down his muscular legs. Maximoff pulls my pants off, and I slow again as my fingers brush over his elastic waistband.

His palm dives down my black boxer-briefs, and he clutches my bare ass with a firm, covetinghand.

Fuck.Veins pulsate in my dick.

Maximoff watches my hand skate down from the waistband to his erection. And as I move slowly, his hard, mouth-watering length strains against his green boxer-briefs.

His chest caves. “Farrow.” His voice demands,don’t tease.He strengthens his grip on my shoulder, about to slam me into a wall, but I bend my knees and crouch at his legs.

Confusion fills his eyes. “What are you…?”

I skim my hand over the leather holster, the one strapped to his calf, and the wooden hilt of the tactical knife. I study his features.

Maximoff looks infatuated and as head-over-fucking-heels in love with me as I am with him.

My lips rise, and I unclasp the holster. He lets me take the knife off him, and as I buckle his holster around my calf, he looks like he might self-combust and marry me a second time.