Page 68 of Invisible String (The Underground #1)

RAINEY

W e stumble up the stairs, and when we’re halfway up, he strips off my shirt.

Then my bra. I yelp when Max tugs on my nipples.

The carpeted stairs press on my back as Max looms over me.

I yank off his shirt while chasing his lips.

Within seconds, our clothes are scattered all over the stairway.

We can’t get enough of one another, can’t make it to the room.

Hot, elaborate breaths trail down my body.

My heart races with every lick of his wet tongue.

Max lifts one leg onto the cool wooden stair railing and the other onto the wall. The way my legs are spread on the wide stairway, I can feel the tug on them.

“Perfect. Everything about you is. I’m going to spend all night on your body.”

Max’s skilled mouth spits into my center, then nips and sucks. I cry in oblivion. My body shakes with each thrust. He laughs when I whimper.

“Not yet, tesoro .”

Every part of my body is on fire. So hot, I’m burning up. He’s always made me feel alive.

“Your legs are shaking. I must be doing something right. You always shake when you’re close.”

“Let’s go upstairs. We have plenty of bedrooms to christen. But first, our bed.”

Max had given me a tour of the house. Some of the rooms are empty. One is an office, and another has weights—a total of five bedrooms. Max lifts me in his arms, kissing me while walking to the bedroom.

The room’s scent is a blend of crisp cologne and fresh laundry.

The bachelor’s domain, exudes an air of personal freedom and casual elegance.

The space is tidy, with every item in its place reflecting a sense of order and simplicity.

The vibrant colors of the décor pop against the neutral backdrop, with bold blues and black adding life and charisma to the surroundings.

I bite my lip when he lays me on his soft bed, and I sink into how smooth it is. How have I gotten so lucky to have such a handsome, intelligent man in my life?

Max hovers over me, kissing me delicately, slowly, and passionately.

I’m still sore from earlier in his office.

Yet I will never refuse anything from this man.

Max’s chest is adorned with tattoos that are so captivating.

I could gaze at them endlessly. As my hands move over his back, I can still trace the network of scars beneath my fingers. I love that he’s not ashamed anymore.

Blood throbs in my veins like a scarlet web of desire. Lust flames between my thighs, eager for him to be inside. The headboard rattles when I flip us over. Max bites his lip, gazing at every inch of me. His perfect, sun-kissed skin is flawless.

“Push me in, baby.”

Slowly, I anchor myself to him. A gasp leaves my mouth when I’m all the way. Back and forth, I rock.

“What a beautiful view,” Max moans, his hands on the back of his head. Eyeing my every move. He grows harder inside me.

How is it possible this man can grow harder?

I’m falling apart. Being the sole focus of Max Cano is like staring at a twinkling star. Gorgeous forest green eyes lick every fraction of my entire being.

He flips us over, and now I’m beneath him.

The length of his body burns mine with a sheer and searing passion.

Our fingers intertwine as Max pushes deeper into me.

He moves at a slow, steady pace. A blazing light burns in his eyes, his focus on me.

A sharp gasp escapes my lips as the sensation builds.

My hands squeeze his meaty biceps, and his tongue flickers over my pointed nipples.

Every part of me screams in complete ecstasy as Max makes love to me.

He increases his pace, each movement more urgent than the last. His muscles ripple and tense with every powerful thrust, sweat glistening on his skin.

Our bodies synchronize effortlessly, and I arch my back to meet him, ensuring each movement connects deeply and completely.

We both come hard, each fueling the other’s climax.

“I love you,” he breathes, his voice a whisper, still trying to catch his breath.

“I love you more,” I whisper into his lips.

He shakes his head. “Impossible. I love you more,” he argues with a smirk.

“No, I loved you first,” I fire back, my smile lazy.

A sexy chuckle erupts from his chest as he slides out of me, rolling to his side. “Nah, I’m pretty sure I loved you first.” He winks.

Boy, does his wink have me blushing.

I don’t argue that I said it first years ago.

I’m too intoxicated by the man beside me.

Does it make me crazy or reckless to be utterly obsessed with someone?

How long does the high last? Because I have a feeling it never comes down.

I’ve felt this way from the very first day I saw Max walk in the double doors.

The world around me stopped, and no one existed but him.

They say intoxication is dangerous. I agree.

There’s only one drug I want in my system, and that’s Max.

After all, I’m a risk taker. I crave the high, the rush that runs through my veins when he’s near.

My body hums in agreement. So, I take another hit, when my lips seep into his, tasting the substance at the tip of my tongue.

I relish the poison consuming me. His eyes darken and fill with lust, letting me know I’m his addiction too.

So, I straddle him, taking every inch of Max.

My hips circle, causing him to buck in response.

This time it isn’t slow and passionate, it’s wild, fast, and hard.

My voice fills the café kitchen as I sway my hips and sing to the music playing in the speakers.

For the past two weeks, since Max and I have had sex, everything feels different, but in a good way.

Not like it was in the cabin where we knew our time would be cut short, and he was closed off and uncertain.

Now it’s official: I’m his, and he’s mine.

Max still drops by at the café when he’s running around at work.

Every morning, he goes for a run when I head to work at four in the morning.

He’s installed cameras at my house, even though it has been quiet without a word from Daniel.

Either I go to his house or it’s mine when he’s done at work and boxing.

Everything feels so perfect, I nearly have to pinch myself.

“Sweetheart, I’m heading home. Are you good closing on your own?” Isabella asks, wrapping me in her motherly embrace.

I roll my eyes at her playfully. She knows I’ll be okay. I inhale her scent, which reminds me so much of my mother.

“I’ll be fine. Tell Salazar I said hi. Go enjoy the night out with your hubby.” Today is Isabella and her husband’s fortieth anniversary. “What do you have planned?”

She grabs her purse hanging on the office chair. “Dinner and maybe a movie if we make it. We oldies have to be in bed early.” She laughs.

“Regardless, you two have fun.”

I let her out, locking the door behind her. I go back to going through my inventory and ordering ingredients. Last night I made a list of cookie ideas I want to try out. I’ll probably make those tomorrow and have Max be my taste tester.

One thing I hadn’t gotten around to doing was talking to my dad.

I know I’m beating around the bush, but my plans are to see Max’s dad first. Although Max doesn’t know, I’d like to keep it that way.

He’s been through so much and never deserved what happened to him.

His father should have taken care of him.

Loved him. Grieved the loss of the woman they lost together.

The only problem is I don’t know where he lives.

Max did mention he checks up on him. When I asked where he lived, he didn’t give me a straight-up answer.

The only person I can ask is Carlos. It will be strange to ask a man I’ve never met for personal information.

It might not be my business to find this man and shout at him, calling him every name in the book.

However, it’s something I need to do deep down in my chest.

Thirty minutes later, after finishing up at the café, Gary drives me to Max’s boxing gym. Max should still be at work. That buys me time to talk to Carlos. Hopefully, he can keep quiet about it, and I can leave before Max catches me.

The gym buzzes with activity. The air fills with the rhythmic thuds of gloves meeting punching bags and the shouts of trainers correcting stances.

Young children dart around, their laughter echoing off the walls.

Teenagers huddle in groups, wrapping their hands in bright red-and-blue bandages, while older adults pound the heavy bags, their grunts mingling with the rhythmic thud of gloves meeting leather.

Muscles strain and glisten under the bright gym lights as men hoist heavy barbells and push iron weights on the bench press.

Nearby, the rhythmic slap of jump ropes hit the floor, echoing as individuals keep a steady, focused pace, their feet barely grazing the ground with each precise hop.

I’ve always wanted to jump rope like that.

Fitness has never been my jam. Max has never implied that I need to work out or anything about being in shape.

I love that. However, I should do it for my health.

Now I feel completely out of place. I take a deep breath and look around. It would help if I knew what Carlos looked like. “Hey, Rainey,” a husky voice says behind me.

“Xander, hey.”

“Are you okay?”

God, my face probably looks overwhelmed. “Yeah, fine. I was just trying to figure out who Carlos is.” I laugh. “I wanted to speak with him.”

He nods and waves for me to follow. He knocks on the wooden door. A man in his late forties or early fifties greets Xander. “Max’s girl would like to speak with you,” Xander says, stepping back to let me walk in. “Max will be here shortly,” he whispers.

I nod and mouth. “Thank you.”

Carlos stands as he grins. “Rainey, so nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you.”