Page 22

Max

"That’s game!" Sofia shouts from across the tennis court. She beat Bianca and me in an embarrassingly short time frame, but I don’t think either of our hearts were in it.

Bianca seems hungover, and I didn’t get home till three in the morning last night because of the traffic jam.

Then, once I was in bed, it took me hours to sleep because I was thinking about Hailey.

I opened up to her about Jack yesterday.

I’ve never told a girl about that before because I hate talking about it; it brings up too many raw emotions.

She comforted me and acted supportive, but I’m worried she won’t look at me the same way anymore.

“Can we do something that Sofia sucks at now?” Bianca moans.

“That something doesn’t exist,” I snap, immediately feeling guilty about the outburst. Sofia pathologically needs to succeed at everything.

I remember when she was going into high school, she didn’t get placed into the most advanced math track, so she spent her entire summer drilling herself and mastering algebra to ‘catch up’.

It didn’t matter that it was her only subject she wasn’t considered advanced in.

When I was a kid, I’d tease her for her competitiveness all the time.

I feel so bad for the number of times my mother had to break the two of us up from screaming matches or even physical fights when we were young.

Then there was the awful period where she’d try to beat me up and I couldn’t do much about it because I was so much stronger than her.

But now that I’ve grown up, I’ve learned to accept it as who she is.

Except when I’m tired. Like this morning.

“I should get going soon, anyway. I had a late night yesterday,” I say, ignoring Sofia’s glare.

“Really? You just got here,” Bianca says.

“It’s not like I traveled far. All I had to do was walk down the street for five minutes.” My parents put in a tennis court in their backyard as soon as Sofia showed a lot of talent with the sport. “Besides, I’ll see you guys at dinner tomorrow.”

“That’s fine,” Bianca says in a sing-song voice, raising her eyebrows. “We know you want to rush home to Hailey.”

I squint at her as the sun reflects off the lake. “How do you know about that?”

“Mom and Dad were talking about it. They’re worried your feelings for her are going to mess with the potential alliance we’re going to have with Marco Ferrara. ”

“Fantastic.” Now I know that my love life is gossiped about when I’m not around.

I mean, I’m not surprised, but it’s still annoying to hear.

I toss my tennis racket into the bag, hard enough for it to bounce, as Sofia tells Bianca to shut up.

“You know, I’m stressed enough about that situation as it is.

I don’t need you all talking about it behind my back. ”

Bianca picks at her cuticles and refuses to meet my eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Sofia says. “We really don’t know much about it other than that the new bartender is living in your house while Grandpa’s working on a marriage arrangement.”

I glare at her. She takes a step back, her brow furrowing while Bianca still doesn’t have the guts to look me in the eye. I don’t get mad at either of them often, but I’ve had a short fuse lately. It’s like every time I’m with family, someone has to remind me of why I can’t be with Hailey.

I mutter something about needing to get home to feed the dog even though it’s nowhere near one of her feeding times and stalk off. I can feel the tension from my sisters behind me and I’m sure they’ll talk about me the rest of the day, but I don’t care; I just want to get home.

***

I step out of the shower, goosebumps covering my skin from the cold water. I towel off, throw on a fresh pair of sweatpants, and head to the kitchen to make myself a nice brunch—thinking eggs benedict, bacon, sausage, and pancakes. Lots of pancakes .

I love cooking, but I never seem to have enough free time, and my mother always discards leftovers on me, so I don’t get to cook as often as I’d like.

Hopefully, Hailey slept in and hasn’t attempted to make her own breakfast. I want to treat her to something nice since she listened to my sob story last night.

I find her in the living room watching a horrible reality show. She’s not even lounging on the couch; her hands clench her knees as she leans forward, completely enthralled by the TV.

“You like this stuff?” I ask.

“I’ve never watched something like this before. It’s so stupid, but I can’t pull myself away.”

“Will you pull yourself away for eggs benedict and pancakes?”

“Yes.”

That snaps her out of the reality-TV spell.

She turns off the TV and stands up. She’s wearing new pajamas—a silky blue camisole and shorts that barely cover her ass.

My stomach is no longer driving me, and something below has taken over. I stalk toward her, wanting to run my hands across her silky clothes and smooth skin.

I pull her flush against me, feeling myself getting hard already just from the close contact.

“Is this part of the recipe?” she teases.

I rock us back and forth, swaying to music that isn’t playing. “No. But I have you on the menu as an appetizer. ”

Her hand slides up my arm, then to my chest. “Hey, about last night.”

My stomach drops. I don’t want to talk about my brother again and ruin this mood.

“When you teased me in the car, you said you were going to make it up to me. But then I had to slam my foot on the brakes. What did you want to get a taste of?”

Her blue eyes search mine. She’s never been this forward with me before.

I lean down to whisper in her ear. “I won’t tell you. But I can show you.”

She swallows and nods.

I rub the back of my hand on her face. “You are so fucking beautiful. It has been the sweetest kind of torture being around you, but not having you.”

I feel my cock harden and press against her stomach. Her face turns that pink color I love, but she doesn’t shy away from it.

No longer able to drag this out, I lift her up, and she wraps her legs around me, tight, grabbing the back of my head.

Her lips crash against mine, and I feel electricity as we melt together.

She runs her hand down my chest, lightly digging her nails into my abs.

I pull her even closer, squeezing her perfect ass. I breathe in her scent like an addict.

Without realizing it, I’m walking us up the stairs to my bedroom.

Her tongue wrestles mine as I take it step by step, not wanting to get distracted and trip.

Her grip on me is tight, and I can feel her arousal through her shorts against my stomach.

I hurry down the hallway once up the stairs, needing to take those pajamas off and see her naked.

I’ve dreamt about this an embarrassing number of times.

I gently drop her on my bed. She bites her lip, focusing on my cock sticking out in my gray sweatpants. I drop to my knees, pulling off her shirt so I’m eye level with her huge, perky tits. Her body shivers at my touch.

I look up and see her lips parted, eyes dilated. My eyes trail down her body to the wet spot in her shorts.

I resist ripping those things off with my teeth, checking in with her instead. “I don’t want to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

She looks annoyed, then, without breaking eye contact, slides her shorts and panties down her legs, letting them drop by my knees.

My mouth opens, speechless, unable to compliment her perfect pink pussy.

I kiss her upper thigh, glancing up as she spreads her legs wider and lies on the bed.

I continue up her leg, building anticipation before allowing myself to taste her.

I moan as I get close. “You’re so wet for me, baby. ”

I lick up her folds, swallowing her arousal, already addicted to her taste.

I swirl my tongue around her clit. Her back arches and the sounds she makes—the groans and mewls—almost send me over the edge.

I trace my tongue toward her opening, then back toward her swollen clit.

I reach up, playing with her breast, and use the other hand to put two fingers in her pussy.

She groans my name as I thrust my fingers in her tight heat.

“Oh, fuck,” she moans. “This feels so good, Max.”

I pick up the pace, swirling around her clit, thrusting my fingers in and out. She squeezes her legs against my head, keeping me in place. I feel how close she is as she bucks against my face.

Then she lets go.

She gasps, releasing an adorable squeal as her walls contract. I don’t stop until she rides out the orgasm.

I lift my head, crawling up her body, resting on my elbows over her. Her face is flushed, hair messy and fanned out, chest heaving from coming so hard. I put my fingers in her mouth, my cock dripping as she sucks her cum away, imagining how it would feel with her lips around me.

I drop my sweatpants on the ground, unable to help smiling arrogantly when her eyes widen.

I rest on top of her, crashing my lips down on hers, thumb stroking her cheek. I pull away, planting a quick kiss. “What do you want to do?” I murmur in her ear.

She licks her lips, looking down my body, her expression crossing arousal and nervousness, leaving me unsure.

I rub the tip against her folds. “I’ll go slow.” Brushing her hair back. “Let me know if it’s too much.” She hinted at being a virgin or at least inexperienced after her pool anxiety attack.

“Okay,” she whispers, biting her lip.

I crawl forward, grabbing a condom from my nightstand. I doubt she’s allowed on birth control from that cult, so I don’t ask.

I slowly slip in about a third of myself, groaning as her walls close on the tip, pausing, worried I’m hurting her .

I pepper kisses along her lips, neck, chest, giving her time to adjust before pushing all the way in. She wraps her legs around me, pulling me closer. I rest my forehead against hers, taking it slow, not just for her—her tightness could make me lose control.

She bucks her hips. “I want more.”

Those words almost send me over the edge, but I get a hold of myself and start properly fucking her.

Her legs tighten around me as I thrust into her wet heat.

I lift her chin to meet her gaze. Those gorgeous blue eyes that drew me in from the start.

Everything about this, about her, feels indescribable.

I can tell from her face she’s no longer in pain or nervous. I playfully slap her breast, curious about her reaction. She squeals, legs wrapping tighter.

I find her clit again, close to my climax.

Her back arches, moans escaping as I don't stop until her walls contract around me. Then I can’t hold off and let go.

My eyes roll back as ecstasy crashes down.

I moan her name as I finish, wishing I could come inside and see myself drip out.

I pull out, lying next to her. She curls against me.

I comb fingers through her hair, her hand on my chest, eyes shining.

I'm out of breath with a huge smile on my face. She giggles, moving closer, her head resting on me. I bury my nose in her hair, wanting to burn every moment into memory forever. Neither of us speaks as we rest on the bed. Nowhere to go today; I hope we spend the afternoon like this, naked and wrapped in each other’s arms.