Page 24

CHAPTER

TWENTY-FOUR

DELANEY

I wake to the steady rhythm of Max’s heart beating beneath my cheek. His arm is draped across my waist, his fingers splayed protectively against my bare skin, like if he lets go, I might disappear.

The room is quiet—dim morning light slipping through the edges of the hotel’s blackout curtains. I can tell it’s early, but not Caroline early. Just early enough to pretend the rest of the world doesn’t exist yet.

I don’t move.

I don’t want to move.

My body is warm and sore in all the right ways, humming with the afterglow of last night.

My muscles ache from the hours we spent tangled together, but it’s the good kind of ache—the kind that reminds me something real happened.

I let Max in, all the way in. He saw everything clearly before I could truly see it myself.

He had me admitting to feelings I could barely register but were completely felt.

I let him in further than I’ve ever let anyone in before.

Because he’s different. I feel for him in ways I’ve never felt for anyone before.

Max stirs slightly, still holding me tight, and I can’t help but smile.

How did I get here?

How did I end up in this ridiculously perfect king-sized bed with a man who somehow managed to bulldoze every wall I’ve ever built? Somewhere between playing cards, joking over recipes, and watching him feed a baby mashed bananas—getting more on himself than in her mouth—I fell for him.

He impresses me at every turn, from the way he stepped into fatherhood without hesitation to the way he skates across the ice looking unfairly hot to the way he treats everyone with kindness. I’ve become obsessed.

I thought I could scratch the itch with sex, even convinced myself it was working—but he saw right through the facade.

He saw me. All of me.

He said he loved me.

He loves me.

And I said it back.

The words feel surreal like they came from someone else’s mouth. But I meant them. Every syllable. Even if my brain is still trying to make sense of it all.

I tilt my head and glance up at him.

He’s still asleep, his jaw slack, lashes dark against his cheeks. There’s a softness to him like this, a quiet vulnerability I don’t think many people get to see. And it does something to me—tightens my chest and settles something low in my belly.

I’ve never felt so exposed. So… seen. And still—there’s a flicker of panic. Because this wasn’t supposed to happen. I wasn’t supposed to fall . Not for him. Not for anyone .

Yet here I am, in his arms, and the truth is I don’t want to be anywhere else.

I shift slightly, careful not to wake him, and slip out from under the covers.

The floor is cool against my bare feet as I grab his oversized T-shirt from last night and pull it over my head.

It smells like him, completely delicious, and I have to stop myself from crawling back into bed.

I retrieve a pair of panties from my bag and slide them on.

Caroline’s monitor is set up next to the hotel’s sofa. The soft buzz of the monitor fills the quiet. She’s still asleep, her breathing steady through the speaker. The game and later bedtime must’ve worn her out last night.

I exhale and press my hand to my chest, grounding myself as images of last night flash through my mind like a movie reel.

There’s a conversation coming, one that isn’t going to be easy.

Max deserves clarity, and I owe it to both of us to be honest about what I want—even if I’m still figuring it out myself.

For now, I head to the far wall of the hotel room, where a small coffee pot sits on a countertop. I choose a French vanilla pod and pop it into the machine. With a disposable cup in place, I hit start.

I stifle a gasp when Max’s arms wrap around me. So lost in my thoughts, I didn’t hear him get up. He gently pulls my hair to the side and presses soft kisses against my neck. “Good morning.”

Leaning back into his chest, I let out a sigh. “Morning.”

“How are you feeling?” he asks between kisses scattered along my skin.

“Tired… but good.”

“Me too.”

My chin drops to my chest, and my eyes flutter closed as his lips continue to caress the sensitive skin of my neck. All traces of fatigue vanish, and my heart pounds while my core throbs with need. What is wrong with me? I’m so obsessed with Max; it’s insane.

“Actually, I’m also quite hungry,” he murmurs, his lips brushing just beneath my ear.

I suck in a breath. “We could order room service.”

“No. That won’t do.”

He turns me gently in his arms, his eyes dark with hunger—and not for food.

In one smooth motion, his hands slide beneath my thighs, and he lifts me effortlessly, setting me on the edge of the hotel counter. The cool surface contrasts deliciously with the heat building between us.

“Max,” I whisper, breathless.

His gaze locks with mine as he slowly runs his hands up the backs of my thighs, pushing his T-shirt up and leaving me open to him. He presses my knees to the side. Every movement is deliberate, reverent, and exquisite.

He kisses the inside of my knee, then trails his mouth higher, letting his lips explore every inch of newly exposed skin.

A gasp escapes me when he kisses just beneath the hem of my underwear, his stubble brushing against me in the most delicious way.

He spreads my legs wider, his thumbs brushing tenderly along my inner thighs.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs as he lifts me slightly and slides my underwear down.

Peppering kisses along my skin, he kisses from my toes, up my calf, over my knee, and across the inside of my thigh until his mouth hovers a breath away from the bundle of nerves aching for him.

My head falls back, and a guttural moan escapes me at the first swipe of his tongue.

“Max,” I cry out. Every other desire—coffee, sleep, reason—evaporates. All I want is this. All I want is him.

He slips one finger, then a second, inside me as he licks and sucks my clit. Seconds later, my legs start to tremble, and pleasure rushes through me like a current, lighting every nerve ending from my scalp to my toes. I cry out again and again, lost in the intensity of my release.

As the waves of my orgasm continue, Max enters me in one fluid motion, thrusting hard and fast. His hands grip my thighs, his fingers digging into my skin as he pounds into me.

I immediately sync with his rhythm, chasing a second climax, this time with him.

I grip the counter for balance, spreading wider, taking him deeper.

He holds my gaze—mouth parted, breathing ragged, eyes heavy with desire—and the sight of him, all primal and beautiful, tips me over the edge again. I come with a cry, gripping him as he slams into me one last time and groans my name, spilling inside me.

We remain pressed together, chests heaving, still connected. I wrap my arms around him and rest my cheek against his sweat-slicked chest. Splaying my hands across his strong back, I hold him close, listening as his erratic heartbeat begins to slow.

Everything he said last night is true. Not only do I love him—I'm so deeply in love that the thought of losing him would destroy me.

He kisses the top of my head, then pulls out slowly. His mouth drops open as he stares between my legs.

“Holy shit,” he breathes, staring in awe. His fingers find my entrance, and he drags a bit of himself up over my still sensitive clit. I whimper.

“This might be the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

I half laugh, half moan as he toys with me. “Do you have a bit of a breeding kink, Max?”

“What is that?” he asks, brows raised.

The question makes me grin. “Read a couple of romance novels, and you’ll figure it out real fast.”

The way he’s touching me makes me want him again—instantly. But we’ve already been lucky with the time we’ve had. I take his wrist and gently pull his hand away.

“As much as I’d love to stay naked with you all day, I have to jump in the shower before our princess wakes up.”

“True,” he murmurs, planting a soft kiss on my lips. “I’ll join you.”

I narrow my eyes. “I actually need to shower.”

He shrugs. “Yeah, me too.” He slides his hands under my butt and lifts me from the counter. I wrap my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck as he carries us to the bathroom. “In fact,” he says, “I’m really looking forward to it.”

“Fine.” I laugh, kissing him again. “But we have to be quick. We’re already on borrowed time.”

“Oh, I can definitely be quick,” he teases, slapping my ass and making me giggle.

I’m floating in a bubble of bliss, clinging to the overwhelming love I feel for this man—and doing my best to quiet the fear that’s always lingered inside me.

The fear that bloomed long ago, watching my mother cry over my father.

But Max isn’t him. He’s nothing like my father. Still, the fear clings tight.

Yet I’m choosing not to let it win. Because I want this. I want Max. More than anything, I want to believe that maybe—just maybe—we’ll get to keep this forever.