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CHAPTER

TWENTY-THREE

MAX

S he pushes her hands against my chest with a good amount of force.

The motion doesn’t push me off her completely, but it’s hard enough to kill the mood and bring me back to reality—at least hers.

I was just in heaven. The scowl on Laney’s face tells me she’s experiencing something completely different.

This isn’t how I saw my first non-condom experience going.

I pull out and roll off her. She bolts from the bed and riffles through her bag. In seconds, she dressed in a T-shirt and shorts.

Okay…

Grabbing my boxer briefs from the ground. I slide them on. “Laney… what’s going on?” Arm raised, my hand squeezes the nape of my neck as I look at Laney in confusion.

She points a finger at me. “You can’t do that. It’s not part of the agreement.”

“Do what?”

“Say you love me!” she protests, anger radiating from her features.

I shrug, my palms up. “Why not? I do love you.”

“No. No. No,” she almost cries under her breath.

“Laney, please explain what is going on.”

She touches her chest, then extends her hand toward me.

“This. Us. We’ve discussed it. It’s a mutually beneficial arrangement.

We’re taking advantage of our proximity, chemistry, and attraction—using them to fulfill our needs.

That’s all. You’re still my boss. I’m still your employee.

Rules are set for a reason. The moment boundaries are crossed, everything changes. ”

I raise my hands in confusion. “So what? Then things change.”

“Things can’t change,” she protests. Her fists clench at her sides as she begins pacing the room.

“Why?”

“Because they can’t!”

In three wide steps, I’m standing before her. So close I can feel the desperation radiating off her as her chest rises and falls. I place a finger beneath her chin and tilt her face until her eyes, full of panic and uncertainty, lock with mine. “We made the rules. We can change them.”

She shakes her head, eyes brimming with unshed tears. Her voice is quieter now, more hesitant. “I can’t. The rules are there to protect me.”

“From what? Me? Do you think I’m going to hurt you?” But even before she answers, I can already see it on her face.

“I think you have the power to hurt me more than anyone ever has.” Her voice breaks.

“I would never hurt you, Laney.”

She clears her throat and takes a step back. Crossing her arms over her chest, she sighs. “You don’t know that.” I open my mouth to speak, but she continues. “I know you wouldn’t try, but situations change. People change. With love comes relationships, and that’s not what I want.”

“What do you think we have?” I ask, scoffing.

“An arrangement.”

“No, Laney. We have a relationship.”

She shakes her head. “No.”

“Yes,” my voice rises, firmer now.

She starts pacing again. “I guess I was stupid for starting something with my boss, but I thought we could handle it. Don’t you see, Max?

The lines are getting blurred, but that doesn’t change the reality.

I’m here to do a job. You pay me to care for your daughter.

That’s all. The sex was supposed to be just that—sex.

But you attached feelings to it. You made it more than it was supposed to be. ”

I shake my head, anger tightening in my chest. I fight to keep my voice steady.

“You can lie to yourself all you want, but don’t think for a second I believe the bullshit you just spewed.

Deep down, you know damn well what we have is more than a boss-employee relationship.

Tell me, Laney... in your other jobs, did you stay up late playing cards with the kid’s dad?

Did you watch movie marathons on the couch with him?

Did you look forward to seeing him every morning?

Did you miss him when he was at work? Did you kiss him when he got home?

Were you so attracted to him that you randomly dropped to your knees to put his dick in your mouth? ”

Laney gasps. “Stop it, Max.”

“No, I won’t. Because everything I’m saying is true.

We’re already in a relationship, whether you want to admit it or not.

What we have is so far beyond sex, it’s unreal.

You and I are perfect for each other. It might’ve started as something casual, but whether you wanted it to or not—everything has changed.

I love you, and that’s the bottom line. I can’t pretend I don’t.

I think about you every second of the day.

When I dream, it’s of you. I live for the moments we spend together after the baby is asleep—all of them.

The sex is incredible, but I love all the rest too.

I love picking up the house with you, doing dishes, and making grocery lists.

I love doing life with you. Every part of my world became better the moment you entered it. ”

“Stop,” she pleads, a tear rolling down her cheek.

“I can’t. I can’t pretend anymore. Loving you feels so good.

I know you’re afraid, and I’m here to talk it out if you want.

But please, be brave enough to admit you love me, too.

I know you do. I understand that you’re scared.

Believe me, I’m terrified. I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you.

That kind of love brings a level of uncertainty that could crush me because nothing is guaranteed.

Could you break my heart someday? Absolutely.

Could I break yours? I don’t see that happening, but who knows what the future holds.

When it comes to the heart, anything is possible.

So yeah, I could hurt you someday. But on the flip side, if we’re brave enough to leap into the unknown, we could find happiness beyond anything we imagined. ”

She shakes her head. “I didn’t want this. I hate men.”

If she weren’t crying, that line would’ve made me laugh. “But...?” I press.

She swipes at her cheeks, wiping the tears away. “I love you.”

Those three words mean everything. “Yeah?” The corners of my mouth lift in a slow grin.

She dips her chin in a defeated nod. “Yeah. Despite a lifetime of conditioning to the contrary, I allowed myself to fall in love with you.”

I close the space between us and wrap my arms around her, pulling her tightly into me.

Her breath hitches as I pull her into my arms, and for a moment, we just stand there—holding on like we’ve both been underwater and finally found air. She feels small against me, warm and soft, her heartbeat pounding in time with mine.

Then she tilts her face up, her tear-bright eyes meeting mine.

And I kiss her.

Not like I have before.

Not hungry. Not desperate. Not playful.

This one is slow. Reverent. It’s the kind of kiss that speaks when words fall short. The kind that says I see you . I choose you . I’m not going anywhere.

She melts into me, her hands sliding around my back, fingers gripping my skin like she needs to anchor herself.

My mouth moves with hers, mapping out the contours I already know but never get tired of.

Her lips are soft, trembling slightly, but there’s nothing hesitant in the way she kisses me back.

I can feel it. All of it.

The fear. The surrender. The hope.

It wraps around us like a thread being tied, looping tighter with every brush of her lips against mine, every sigh she releases into my mouth.

And I know.

We just crossed a line we can’t uncross.

But I don’t want to.

Without a word, I scoop her into my arms. She lets out a soft gasp, her arms looping around my neck as I carry her to the bed. Her hair fans across the pillows as I lay her down like she’s something precious. Because she is.

I kneel beside her and run the back of my fingers along her cheek. Her skin is flushed, her eyes shining. “You sure?”

Her answer comes in the form of a kiss—this one less careful. We remove our clothing, and she pulls me down to her, guiding my body over hers.

When I slide inside her, it’s not frantic or rough. It’s deep and aching and slow—like we’re memorizing every inch, every gasp, every trembling inhale. She feels incredible.

She wraps her legs around my hips, pulling me closer, deeper.

I brace my weight on my forearms, framing her face, and I can’t stop looking at her. Her eyes are wide open, locked on mine, her pupils blown wide with need—but it’s more than that. There’s something sacred in her expression. Raw. Unfiltered.

I press my forehead to hers and whisper, “You feel like home.”

Her breath catches, and her eyes flutter shut as I start to move again—smooth, rhythmic strokes meant to worship, not just satisfy.

We move together like we’ve done this a thousand times like we were built for this exact moment.

Her hands roam my back, my shoulders, my face. And when her release hits, she clings to me, moaning my name like a prayer, and I follow seconds later, emptying everything I have into the space between us—every fear, every longing, every unspoken promise.

We stay like that, tangled in each other, our skin damp with sweat and hearts beating as one.

I roll to my side and pull her with me, tucking her close. There’s still so much to say. So much to figure out.

But not tonight.

Tonight is about this. Her. Us.

The fragility of this relationship hangs in the air, but I’m not afraid. It’s all going to work out. It has to. I’ve never felt more certain about anything in my life.