Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
Max turned to face her, seeking out her eye contact. Lana didn’t shy away. Not that she ever would. When it came to confrontation, she could talk circles around him.
He’d meant to leave the past alone. She hadn’t wanted to talk about this. But he couldn’t hold this inside any longer. Max needed her, even though he shouldn’t, and he just didn’t have the mental wherewithal to keep denying it.
According to his rule, he wasn’t supposed to touch Lana again. Three nights… Yeah, he could count. He knew the score. But his rule had failed him. And he’d be an idiot if he kept doubling down on a failing strategy.
But Lana didn’t seem to be taking him seriously. She scoffed, rolling her eyes.
“I can’t understand you, Max. Back then, I knew you weren’t looking for a relationship, and I was fine with that. But the next time you visited Aurora, it was like none of it ever happened. That really hurt.” She shrugged. “I thought you’d had your fill of me.”
The thought of Lana hurting caused him physical pain. “I’ve always wanted you.”
She ran her fingertip around the rim of the wine glass. Lana had that deliberative look, the one she got when she was in the courtroom. “But not enough to show me. Instead, you made me assume those nights meant nothing to you.”
She had no idea what a struggle it had been to see her and pretend to feel nothing. How many times he’d jacked himself off to the memory of her body, her taste, her moans, even though he’d lied to himself, pretending it wasn’t Lana he was picturing.
He was getting hard just thinking about it.
“Our time together meant a lot.”
Her calm broke. “But if you wanted me, then why end things in the first place? Don’t give me those same tired excuses.”
A natural question. But a hard one to answer. “It’s complicated.”
“Then explain it to me. You were afraid I’d fall for you, and my poor little heart would break?”
Maybe. As arrogant as that sounded.
“I have a rule.”
God, was he really about to tell her this?
Max braced his hands against the countertop. “When I’m with a woman, I never let it go past three nights. That’s my limit. A rule of three.”
Her eyebrows slowly arched. “Are you for real right now? ‘Rule of three?’ Seriously?”
“It works for me,” he said defensively. “After that, things get messy and awkward.”
“And that’s why we never slept together again? Because we’d done it three times?”
“I think it was four times, actually. If memory serves. I said three nights. Obviously, I can go more than once a session.”
She burst out laughing.
“What? You know it’s true.”
“I can vouch for that, yes.” She was smiling, shaking her head at him. “But three is so arbitrary. I don’t see why three nights is okay, but four is too much. Or seven. Or ten.”
Why did I tell her about the rule? He always made sure his partners had no expectations. But he’d never told anyone in such explicit terms. With other women, he’d always gotten his point across without spelling it all out. “No-strings attached” was usually all they needed to hear.
Lana seemed to sense his discomfort and pounced. “Why is it three, Bennett? Why three? You must’ve thought about this. You picked three for a reason.”
“It’s three because of you.”
She went silent.
“We had three nights. So…that’s what I picked. No more than three. It seemed to make sense.”
“I don’t know whether to be offended or flattered.”
Lana turned away and crossed the room, stopping in front of the windows. Probably plotting her next volley of questions.
Max unbuttoned his dress shirt and stripped it off, leaving his undershirt.
Getting himself ready for the next round.
Her interrogation only made him want her more.
Because this was Lana in her element. Whip-smart, formidable in an argument.
Sparring with her was more excitement than he’d had in ages.
He couldn’t make himself look like a dumbass, though.
He wanted to win her over. That meant being honest, while making her see his side of things.
But he definitely wasn’t feeling tired anymore. His blood was pumping. He felt awake and alive.
Lana spun around, her hands clasped behind her back. “You say you decided on this rule after me. But before we’d ever slept together, you made clear to me that we couldn’t last. You already planned that we’d have an expiration date.”
“Yes. I know.”
“Why is that?”
“Because I’m shitty at relationships.”
“Did something specific happen to make you think that?”
Something specific had happened, but he wasn’t going so far as to share it. She didn’t need to know every crappy thing he’d ever done.
“I just knew. I wouldn’t be good for you in the long run.”
She made a circuit of the living room. Max remained in the kitchen, like he was on the witness stand.
“I’m shitty at relationships, too,” Lana said. “I’ve still tried. I’ve never made it past the one-month mark with any of the men I’ve slept with, but at least I’ve made the effort.”
His face went hot. “I don’t need to hear about you and other men.”
“Thinking of me with other men bothers you?”
“It does.”
She lifted one shoulder. “Half the time I was imagining you while I fucked them, anyway.”
“Lana,” he warned, his jaw tight. He’d never had a jealous streak, and he had no right to be possessive of her. Yet he hated to think of another man kissing her. Moving inside of her. It made his head pound.
She smiled, obviously glad she was getting to him. “You took my virginity. If that makes you feel better.”
“I know, and it doesn’t.” The admission filled him with shame all over again.
There’d been plenty of clues. And even if he’d somehow failed to guess, he’d seen the blood on the condom.
Her lips pressed together. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Because you didn’t. And because I didn’t want to think about it, I guess. What it really meant for you. I’m an asshole like that.”
She snickered, even though he’d been completely serious. “An asshole for showing me a good time?”
“No, for taking your virginity when I didn’t deserve it. You should’ve had your first time with a guy who’d stick around for you. But I didn’t care about that. I just…wanted to have you.”
She bit into her lower lip, and Max wished those were his teeth marking her. His tongue, licking at the same spot afterward.
“I know my reasoning doesn’t exactly hold up in hindsight. But I thought I could have you and still not hurt you if it was only one night.”
“One night?”
“I told you, the rule of three came after.”
The night he took her virginity, he’d sworn to himself it would just be the one time.
She’d clearly wanted someone to bed her.
She’d been so eager, and he was sure that she felt only passing lust for him.
They’d go back to being acquaintances the next day, brushing off the night before as a fun diversion.
Nothing more. Thanks for the roll in the hay.
But the next morning, his own longing hadn’t been sated. And she’d seemed raring to go for more. So he’d talked himself into it.
“Every time I asked, you said yes, and I was fucking glad for it. But I also hated myself for being so selfish. For disregarding the fact that I knew you were better off saying no.”
One night became two.
Then two became three.
Every night increased the likelihood that Lana would get attached.
And the following morning, he had to leave. If he hadn’t, he probably would’ve kept it going, like the self-centered bastard that he was. Even though he knew that he couldn’t be the kind of boyfriend a girl like Lana needed.
He would never have cheated, but he would’ve resented the other demands that a girlfriend had every right to make. His attention, his emotions, his time. He would’ve gotten restless and done something impulsive and stupid, and she would’ve been disappointed or worse.
“Who are you to decide what’s ever been best for me?”
He threw up his hands. “Then I suck for being presumptuous, too. Take your pick.” Great job, Bennett. Way to convince her to jump into bed with you again.
“I’m just trying to explain what was in my head ten years ago,” he said.
“Once I’d left West Oaks, and my dick had stopped making my decisions, I felt bad about what I’d done to you.
What I thought I’d done. That’s why, the next time I saw you, I acted like it never happened.
Because I was afraid that I’d let myself get carried away again. ”
“Yes, that would’ve been so unforgivable. Couldn’t let anyone think that Max Bennett was unsure of himself. Or that he had actual feelings. What a disaster.”
“I told you, I’m bad at this.” He pinched the skin between his eyes. He didn’t want to fight with Lana. Maybe some vigorous banter, but fighting was the exact opposite of what he wanted.
He wanted…more. Just more. What that meant—if he wanted more from Lana than just another night of incredible sex—he didn’t know.
It would’ve been easier if she hated him for taking her virginity and then leaving. Easier if he didn’t know her so well and respect her so much.
Lana was exactly right. She’d always been able to make her own decisions, and he should never have imagined that he knew better.
So, he was going to put it all on the line and let her decide.
She’d returned to the window. He pushed off the counter and walked toward her, a single slow step at a time.
“I’m sorry I was stupid back then. I’m so sorry that I made you believe you didn’t matter to me. But I can’t stop thinking about you.”
Max was just inches away from her. Lana looked up at him.
But he didn’t stop there. He kept closing that distance until their foreheads met, their noses touched.
He cupped the back of her neck, holding her in place.
Her hair was soft between his fingers. The scent of her, lilac and grass, added to the wine already in his stomach. Intoxicating him.
“I need to touch you. Taste you. I think I’ll lose my mind if I don’t.”
“What about your ‘rule of three?’”
“Fuck my rule.”
He didn’t ask permission this time. He just tilted her head back and took her mouth. After a brief pause to let her stop him—she didn’t—his tongue pushed past her lips. Lana’s answering moan went straight to his cock. His free hand went around her hips, drawing her against him.
Max walked backward until they reached the couch. They tumbled onto the cushions, legs tangling, yet their mouths didn’t break contact. Too much time had passed since the last time he’d tasted her. He wasn’t letting her go.
Lana was halfway on top of him. Max sat upright, hitching her up by the thighs, and spreading her legs to either side of him. She straddled his lap, just like the first night they were together.
His teeth nipped at her lips. He gave her hair a tug, checking her reaction, and the sound she made was pure sex.
“Yes, Max, like that.”
His erection was trying to burst straight through the expensive wool of his pants.
She ground herself against his hard-on. Such delicious friction.
Hell, this woman was so fucking sexy. Lither than she’d been at nineteen, with a few more curves for him to hold onto.
She moved with the confidence gained from years of experience.
But Max had a secret thrill that he’d given her that first taste of lovemaking.
Her first orgasms from another person’s body, tongue, hands.
He didn’t want to think of her with other men. But he was still eager to find out how much she’d learned. He’d learned a thing or two himself.
Her next words, though, were a cold splash of reality.
“Wait. Wait, stop.”
He froze. She scrambled off him and stood. Her lips looked bruised, her eyes unfocused. She stepped back and looked at him, blinking like she’d just woken from sleep.
“I don’t know…I didn’t…”
“It’s okay.” He tried to adjust himself, so his dick wasn’t the most prominent thing in the room. “Is something wrong? Or…”
“Um.” Lana put her hands over her mouth. “It’s just really sudden. I’m trying to give my brain a chance to catch up.”
Really? He thought. That’s the last thing I want my brain to do.
“There’s no rush. Do you want to talk about it?”
“Not yet.”
“I moved too fast, didn’t I?”
She managed a weak laugh. “Yes. And no. In a way, it took ten years. But I think that’s why I feel a little…overwhelmed.”
Lana walked toward her bedroom. Max got up and followed her, but not too close. Giving her space.
When she reached her doorway, she turned to face him. “I don’t know what you expect from me. Is this another one-night thing? Or three? Are we just restarting the clock on that expiration date?”
He tucked his hands into his back pockets. “I don’t know. I just want you. In my bed, in my life.” That part wasn’t easy for him to say. “I wish I could be clearer. But I’m kind of in uncharted territory here. For me.”
Her eyes lifted to his. So uncertain.
“Can that be enough?” he asked.
This time, it was Lana who bridged the gap. She came toward him and put a hand in the center of his chest. Kissed his jawline. The corner of his mouth.
“Lana,” he murmured, “do you want me?”
She searched his eyes. Then her expression hardened.
“No, Max. I’m sorry. I don’t.”
She swept into her room, and the door closed in his face.
Then the oven timer went off. The lasagna was done.