Chapter 26
MAX
I’m standing behind the hotel room door as Paige storms in, annoyance bouncing off her so hard it’s tangible.
As I’ve told her before, she’s too easy to wind up, and I knew that ignoring her text messages would provoke a reaction.
I suspected she would show up today, using it as an excuse to confront me face-to-face and try to justify why we shouldn’t keep going, to end things between us.
I won’t let that happen. She has no idea how determined I can be.
And she wants it too, or she wouldn’t be here.
She just can’t bring herself to admit it to me.
I’ve been the enemy for too long and it’s screwing with her head how much she likes me; how much we like each other.
“Can’t stay away, huh, Bunny?”
She lets out a startled scream as I wrap my hand around her wrist and push her against the wall, pinning her there, causing her workbag to hit the floor with a thud as the door closes, locking us away from the rest of the world.
“Max.” My name comes out of her mouth in a delicate whisper. She might be shoving my shoulders as if trying to push me away, but there’s no strength behind it or any fight. She isn’t fooling anyone. She wouldn’t be here if she didn’t want to be.
“We can’t, Max.”
I run my nose along hers, her sweet breath heating my lips that are desperate to kiss her once more. “But you’re here now, it would be a shame to waste the room.”
“I guess.” Her chest heaves up and down, in and out, as if she’s already breathless. The anticipation is almost too much for her to withstand, and she’s agonizing over what her mind is telling her but what her body refuses to believe.
Gliding my finger over her bottom lip, I drag it downward, moving my touch to her chin, her neck, brushing my fingertips over her clavicle, then between her cleavage, making her breath come out in uneven stutters.
My hands find her waist, desperate to feel her shapely hips again that I’m completely obsessed with before I shimmy her sexy leather skirt upward, inch by painful inch.
“We shouldn’t, Max.” There’s not a hint of believability in her tone as she allows me to slide the form-fitting slinky leather all the way up to her waist, my cock thickening in my boxers.
“We should,” I counter, slipping my fingers inside the tiny triangle of fabric at the front of her lace panties. When I push my fingers between her pussy, my smile tiptoes around the corners of my mouth when I discover she’s already wet.
She can spin any story she wants, but I see through it; she wants me. Wants this and is turned on by the excitement of our clandestine dalliance.
When I gently rub her clit, she cries out, gripping onto my shoulders, her back arching in response.
She’s already so close.
Do I know this is wrong? Of course I do. But can I stop myself from wanting her? Never. Now I’ve had a taste of her, she’s all I’ve thought about, dreamed about.
I was lying to myself, believing that four hours with her yesterday was enough. I need more, want more, crave her soft moans and whimpers, crave the way she smiles when she comes, crave the gentleness of her touch and lips on mine. Whatever she’ll give me, I want it all.
And she might object again today, tomorrow, and the next day after that, but there’s no substance to her words. Her resistance is long gone.
Her eyes meet mine, and I already know what this one means. It’s the one where she looks firm, almost domineering, but I can see the cracks, her resolve wavering, a softening that reveals how close she is to giving in.
“One more time.” I nod confidently, her defenses beginning to subside as she tilts her hips, rubbing her clit against the palm of my hand while I circle her wet entrance, making all the blood rush to the head of my cock with the need to be inside her.
She tries to straighten herself with dignity, but she has to bite her lip to stifle her outcry, her body relaxing in my arms. “One more time,” she answers, gasping as I push a finger inside her wet heat, her walls gripping my digit, pulling me needily into her body.
It won’t take long before she’s coming all over my fingers then my cock.
I watch her intently, her mouth dropping open in silence when I curl my finger inside her and rub the area that makes her come lightning fast, which I discovered yesterday.
“Make me come, Max.”
“Not yet.” My mouth swoops in to kiss her tempting mouth, our hungry tongues touching each other as if they are long-lost lovers. I suck her tongue into my mouth as I remove my fingers from her wet center and lift my hand to our mouths.
Giving her no time to think about what I’m doing, I press my finger against her lips as I let go of her tongue from between my teeth then tell her to, “Lick.”
Without hesitation she sucks my finger into her mouth, sucking her juices off my digit, twirling her tongue around it, ensuring she tastes every last drop. My dick pounds harder, growing thicker as precum leaks from the tip as her expert mouth sucks me illicitly in the same way she did yesterday.
When she pushes my finger out of her mouth with her tongue, I plant a soft kiss on her lips before dropping to my knees, lifting her leg on top of my shoulder, my mouth now perfectly aligned with her pussy.
I spread her lips with my fingers, my mouth watering at the thought of tasting her again.
“You have such a pretty pussy, baby.” She tastes sweeter than honey.
I look up as she looks down, a sinful smile dancing across her lips as the air around us becomes heavy with need.
The thrill of us doing this together again swirls around us in a mix of passion and desire.
We hate each other—sorry, we hated each other, couldn’t stand to be in the same room as one another, or even bear to breathe the same air, like a couple on the brink of divorce, seeing only our worst traits, but now, there’s banter, a shift to flirtatiousness from the barbed conversation we once had.
It’s transformed into chemistry and attraction that makes the fiery tension between us stronger with an air of vulnerability about it.
We might work together professionally but our bodies work even better together between the sheets.
Her moans burn with lust. “I need you inside me,” she says, tilting her hips with impatience.
Fuck yeah, she wants this.
“Not yet,” I say again, turning my head to the side to kiss the skin of her inner thigh, and finally when her body is almost trembling with need, I kiss her pussy, making shots of euphoria fly out of her mouth.
“Oh fuck, yeah, harder, Max.”
I lick her clit with my tongue, flicking it much harder like she wants me to this time.
I know she’s loving every minute as she threads her fingers through my hair, pushing my mouth against her pussy much harder as I thrust my tongue into her entrance.
She flings her head back, forgetting how close she is to the wall and bangs it.
But she doesn’t care and does it again as she arches her back off the wall, holding my mouth against her pussy to keep me there.
“Fuck yeah,” she pants with need, making me chuckle. Her cursing is the best sound I’ve heard all day.
She’s usually so stern; watching her come apart like this on my tongue is not only amazing but proof of how far we’ve come—from enemies to this.
The woman who once glared at me like I was her personal nightmare is now trembling, letting me touch her in ways she would never have allowed me before; I wouldn’t have dared to.
It’s addicting, the way her body melts under my hands, how she clutches at my hair as if she can’t believe this is happening.
And honestly? Neither can I.
I never thought I’d crave her this way, or that I’d learn to read every breath, every gasp, every plea. But now, tasting her surrender, hearing her swear like she might break, it’s the sweetest victory I could ever ask for, and I don’t want to ever give it up.
I take a moment to look up at her. Eyes closed, she’s grinning, completely lost in the moment as I eat her out like my life depends on it.
She’s so fucking beautiful. The strong muscles of her thighs contract as I drag my finger through her folds, making her suck in a deep, sharp breath as I work her body possessively.
Sucking her clit into my mouth, I flick it with my tongue, which has her bowing her back even more and digging the heel of her stiletto into my shoulders and back. I hope she scratches and bruises my skin with her sharp pumps deep enough to leave a scar. I want her branded into my skin.
I thrust a finger inside of her while continuing to lick her clit until she’s moaning and writhing, pushing her hips and holding my face against her pussy as her pleasure coils through her body, dragging her closer to the edge of her orgasm.
She’s on the edge, about to shatter, and I flick her clit faster.
“You taste so fucking good, baby,” I pant, thrusting another finger inside her before sliding them in and out, and adding a third, stretching her to get ready to take me again. I’m so desperate to be inside her, my cock eagerly pounding and ready to fuck.
“Max,” she cries out when I curl my fingers inside her, her legs beginning to shake.
Her walls twitch around my fingers and I whisper against her pussy, “My cock is so fucking hard for you.”
“Make me come, then fuck me, Max.” She reaches down and cups my face so tenderly that for a fleeting moment this feels like so much more than just sex and hooking up in secret.
It’s intimacy unlike anything I’ve ever felt.
It’s raw, consuming, and so fucking real.
There’s no masks or darkness to hide us, no walls, and no biting words to keep each other at a distance.
Just skin and heat and the unspoken truth that somehow, against every odd, we chose this.
Or maybe, it found us in the dark that night at the club.
She clings to me like I’m her anchor, and maybe I am, because right now she’s mine too. The world fades around us, and I’m relishing, memorizing every sound she makes, every shiver, every ragged gasp that says she trusts me. That she wants me.
After everything, all the closing statements in court, our arguments, the fierce rivalry to win court cases, the pent-up anger splitting hairs over property, child support, and alimony for our clients, this is what’s left: a bond so intense it threatens to undo me. Ruin us.
Every woman before now was insignificant, because this, here, right now, is all that matters, and we are so hot together, we could start a forest fire.
I feel wild and so turned on, every hair on my body standing to her attention.
Her hips are rocking, telling me she’s desperate to come, so I pick up the pace and lick her swollen clit much faster now, sliding my fingers back and forth for her to chase her release she so desperately needs, working her body. I wish we had been doing this for years, not days.
What the fuck took us so long?
Between my fingers fucking her dripping-wet pussy, and my tongue lashing at her clit, I send her into sensory overload, focusing all of my attention on making her feel good and forget any other man but me.
“Fuck, Max,” she moans, her breathing becoming labored.
And when I suck her clit again, her fingers painfully pull at my hair so tightly I wonder if she’ll pull every strand from my scalp.
Pleasure crashes through her when she cries, “I’m coming,” barely able to catch her breath and letting out a long groan.
I take my time, allowing her to come down from her high, my fingers slowly moving in and out of her drenched pussy as she rides out the last wave of her orgasm.
I kiss her clit one last time, causing her to jerk, before removing my fingers from inside her.
She releases her hold from the vise-like grip of my hair. I’m hoping that she does the same again because I’m already addicted to the pleasurable pain I want more of.
I glance up, and when her eyes hit mine, she shoots me a satisfied smile as I lazily smile back. And there it is again; the intimacy. The warmth and happiness.
“You good?” I ask tentatively.
“Can we do that again tomorrow?” she asks, biting her bottom lip as I rise to my feet.
Quicker than a match ignites, I’ve undone my pants, rolled a condom on, lifted her into the air, wrapped her legs around my waist, and filled her soaked pussy with my cock.
“I think that answers your question.” I fuck her up the wall, her nails digging into my back.
“This is bad.” She stares at me through her lashes; her thoughts caught somewhere between taking a leap into sin with me or stopping this altogether. “I want you.”
“Me too.” Being bad never felt so good.
“Tomorrow will be the last time,” she pants, lying to herself and me.
“Last time,” I parrot, knowing it won’t be.