Page 17 of Invisible String (The Underground #1)

RAINEY

A s the sunlight pours through the floor-to-ceiling windows, I instinctively shield my eyes with my hand, trying to adjust to the sudden brightness.

My lower body hurts in a good way from the amount of sex I’ve had.

Who would’ve thought my summer break would involve finding my long-lost crush and having multiple rounds of sex with him?

He stirs in his deep sleep beside me. He’s such a handsome man.

I could stare at him all day. Never have I woken up to a man in bed, especially completely nude.

I turn to my side to gaze at him in his sleep.

In no way am I a creep. The sheet slides down, giving a view of the scars I saw last night.

Now I get a different view, since he’s shirtless.

Last night, when he took his shirt off, it was dark in the room.

I didn’t question him about it last night.

I felt that if he wanted to talk about it, he would, but last night was not the right time.

He doesn’t want my sympathy, and I understand. It has me wondering who hurt him.

Leaning in closer, I gently press my lips against each scar, tracing a path along his skin. Each mark must tell a heartbreaking story of how he got those harsh marks. The mark resembles a buckle belt embedded in his skin. It bears a map of past pain, a series of raised lines.

He tenses up suddenly. I can’t tell if he is asleep and has a reflexive response to my touch or if he’s awake and worried about me seeing them.

The scars are all different sizes. Some look like scratches.

Maybe this is why he used to flinch in high school when I first tried to hold his hand, or didn’t like a person’s hands on him.

He doesn’t flinch anymore, but you can tell he’s not keen on people’s touch. With me, he’s always been different.

I run my fingers over each one, leaving a kiss behind.

“Rain,” he moans. I love the sound of my name on his lips. “What are you doing?”

Kiss. Kiss. “Making it better.” Kiss. Kiss. “Does it feel better?”

“It does, but…I didn’t want you to see them.”

I lean back in bed to face him and try my best not to show I want to cry and scream at those who hurt him. Maybe I’m jumping to conclusions, but perhaps he got into an accident. Another one. “Do you mind if I ask what happened?”

He lays on his side. His callused fingers feather against my cheek. “It was an accident that happened. I’m okay now. They’re ugly, and I don’t want people to see them,” he admits, pecking a kiss on my nose.

“Did it happen when you got in the accident with your mom?” My stomach churns as I mention his mother’s accident. What if I give him a horrible flashback like the other day?

“No. This was a different one.”

“You shouldn’t worry about what others think. I see them as battle scars, and you should be damn proud of it.” I say the last words enthusiastically, and he gives me a sexy grin. My God, does he have a beautiful smile.

“I should, huh?”

I punch the mattress. “Damn right, you should.” I’m not sure if he’s telling the truth, if it was an accident, what caused it, or if it was someone else. Maybe one day he’ll tell me.

He laughs but stops when his gaze rolls over my naked body. “Are you okay? I wasn’t too rough, was I? It’s easy to lose control when I’m inside you.”

“I’m sore, but I’m fine,” I admit, running a finger down his chest to his V-line. The sheets slide even farther, giving me a remarkable view of his package.

He taps my ass. “Will a shower feel better?” He looks around the bedroom. “Or do you have a bathtub?”

“Yup…I do have a bathtub.” My lips go into a straight line. I keep my eyes from darting downward.

“Do you have a bath bomb? Is that what you use?” His brows go up, confused.

Obviously, he’s never done this, and I admire him for it.

He slides off the bed in all his glory. Good gracious.

This man does not lack confidence, I’ll tell you that.

All the running and workouts he does in the morning have paid off.

He slips his boxers on and walks to the joint restroom in my room.

I hear the water running and Max going through the basket of bath bombs my mom bought.

What worries me is that I’m falling deeper for him, and this is no crush. It’s love.

The night drive up the winding road to a secluded spot on the cliff feels enchanting.

Cool, refreshing air rushes through the open windows, brushing my cheeks and bringing the distant lake’s salty scent.

The rhythmic hum of the Nova’s engine accompanies the soft forest in the gentle breeze, creating a harmonious symphony that makes the journey feel almost otherworldly.

I stick my head out of the window and yell, enjoying the way the sound reverberates back to me.

The mirror is still dangling by a cord, reminding me of my horrible driving.

Max’s husky laugh gets my panties wet. “Fast Car” by Tracy Chapman plays. I sing the song, feeling free.

“It’s beautiful up here,” I tell Max, my voice tinged with awe as I try to catch my breath.

He eases the car to a stop, and we sit in silence for a moment, absorbing the scene before us.

The mountain rises majestically, its peak crowned with a dusting of snow that glistens in the sunlight.

Below, the lake stretches out like a sheet of glass, reflecting the vibrant hues of the moon and the lush greenery surrounding it.

A gentle breeze rustles the pine trees, adding a whisper to the tranquil atmosphere.

“Yeah, it’s nice.”

My poor heart skips like crazy as Max drags my hand onto his lap.

“Do you mind if I smoke a joint?” His lips form a line as if I’m a mother going to scold him.

“Max, you don’t need to ask me.”

“Sure, I do. If the smell bothers you, I would like to know.”

I wave a hand. “It’s fine.”

He pops the glove compartment. He pulls out a baggie with two joints and a lighter.

Lana and I went to a couple of parties and smoked.

It’s not like I’m new to it. He lights it up, takes a hit, and then opens the car door.

He leans against the hood of the car. I follow.

How in the hell does he look sexy doing it?

“Pass it over.” My voice comes demanding, which causes his brows to rise.

He presses his lip to it, then inhales, turns, and lets the train of smoke out.

“No.”

“Why not? Do you not like to share?”

“I’m not going to be a bad influence on you, Rain.” He reaches for my hand again and lays it on his thigh. “Don’t move it.”

“Someone is bossy.” Not that I mind. I love his hands all over me. “Secondhand smoke, heard of that?”

He grumbles something under his breath. He’s about to put it out when I take it from his hands and take a hit. Then I take his mouth in mine and release the smoke into his mouth.

“Damn, I don’t know why, but I found that sexy.” He grins, taking the joint from my hand. He puts it out with his fingers.

“Hey,” I whine. He places me between his legs, and we both look up at the stars.

It’s beautiful and so quiet here. The moonlight reflects on our faces.

We stare at one another, and I wonder what goes through his head at times.

The way he looks at me is gentle, like a soft caress.

A wolf howls in the distance. I jump, startled, wrapping my arms around Max. He chuckles and kisses my forehead.

“Come on, sunshine. Let's get in the car, you can sit on my lap. I have better things we can do.” He eye fucks me like always, closing the door behind us. “Take off the shorts. Fuck, just strip for me.”

I’m confident with my body, just shy around Max. It’s his heated lip-licking stare that has me blushing. He unbuckles his jeans.

“Always wet for me. Only me,” he says. It’s more of a statement than a question.

“Yes,” I breathe out when he lifts me and sits me down on him.

We both moan when he’s all the way in. I rock back and forth.

His hot breath is on my breast, sucking hard while I rock us.

“Max,” I cry in pleasure. We’ve had so much sex.

It’s crazy how addictive it is with him.

I want more and more. We both come at the same time.

Our breaths are heavy, and our foreheads are leaning on one another.

“I want more.” I rock us, and Max moans.

“Get in the backseat. We are far from done.”

The windows are up, and the car rocks back and forth. “Ma…Max.” I moan when he speeds up.

“Moan my name. Scream my name. I live for the noises you make. You sound so sexy, sunshine.”

I want to say I love the noises he makes.

The groans and moans. The way his voice always comes hot.

Words don’t come. He feels so good. We’ve been at it in the car so long, our handprints have fogged up the windows.

One leg hooks over the seat, the other locks around his waist. My back bows for him. His hands slip on my ass. Max squeezes.

“Come for me.” He nibbles on my ear. Just with the sound of his voice, it does it to me.

He floods my insides with his juices; it runs down my legs as his body shakes with his release. “Fuck. It won’t stop.” He laughs.

After he kisses me like crazy, we get dressed. Max pulls out a bag of Twizzlers that he had in his bag. “My favorite.” I grin, ripping the wrapper with my teeth.

“Mine too, sunshine.”

It always seems he knows me when I know he doesn’t. Possibly it’s because we click so well.