Chapter 21 #2
Wyatt nudges Dylan’s shoulder. “Come on, kid. Let’s get that gaming system hooked up so you can kick my ass in Call Of Duty.”
The rest of the room empties quickly, leaving Maddox and I alone.
He doesn’t waste any time. His hands come up to frame my face, and he pulls me in for another kiss.
This one isn’t a gentle press of the lips like the one I planted on him before.
It’s deep and consuming, like he’s trying to pour everything he’s feeling into it.
His tongue invades my mouth, sweeping through it with an urgency I match.
When we finally part, we are both panting.
His forehead touches mine and his thumbs trace my cheeks.
“I better go get the rest of your things from the truck,” he says, his tone husky. A moment later his hands fall away from my face, and he rises to his full height. “You should get some rest after Judy feeds you.”
“You’re going to spoil me.”
“Don’t see the issue in that,” he says. “If spoiling you makes it so you never want to leave, I’m okay with that.”
I watch as he slowly walks away, and when he disappears from my sight, I release a shaky breath and pull the blanket around my shoulders.
Less than twenty-four hours ago, I was serving drinks, not knowing how drastically my life was going to change.
Now, I’m sitting in Maddox’s house, wearing his clothes while he moves me and my son into his home.
The speed of everything should absolutely terrify me. Instead, I feel safe.
Cherished.
And dare I say, maybe even loved.
What a mind fuck.
And yet, it all feels so right.
Like the universe has aligned.
Like it’s finally our time.
I hear the shower turn on. My body responds immediately to the knowledge that Maddox is in there, naked, water cascading down his powerful frame. Memories from last night flash in my mind and I recall how tenderly he washed me, how his hands moved over my skin with such care.
Something pulls me toward him—need, gratitude, desire—all twisted together.
I swing my legs over the edge of the bed, my bare feet touching the cool hardwood floor.
Looking down at Maddox’s flannel shirt that engulfs my frame, I slowly unbutton it, letting it fall from my shoulders.
The air kisses my naked skin and my nipples harden as I pad across the room toward the bathroom door.
Steam billows out when I push it open. Through the glass shower door, I can make out Maddox’s powerful silhouette—broad shoulders, strong back, water cascading down his muscled form.
I pull the door open without hesitation and step inside.
He turns, water dripping from his face. “What are you doing? You need your rest.”
I close the shower door behind me and step closer to him, welcoming the hot water as it slides over my skin. “I’ve been resting all day.”
His eyes darken as they travel down my body, taking in every inch of me. I reach for the bar of soap in his hands.
“Can I wash you?” I whisper.
He doesn’t speak. He just stares at me with an intensity that makes my knees weak. Then he extends the bar of soap to me. Our fingers brush as I take it from him, and I work up a lather between my palms.
I start with his shoulders, tracing the contours of his muscles, following the drops of water down his chest. His skin is hot beneath my touch, and I take my time, memorizing every ridge. When my hands trail lower across his abdomen, his cock jerks between us.
I look up to find his eyes burning into mine.
“You’re really good at taking care of people, Maddox,” I say, my voice barely audible over the shower.
“You took good care of your grandfather. You take care of your workers. You take great care of me and Dylan.” My hands pause, and I angle my head, genuine curiosity pulsing through me as I ask, “But who takes care of you?”
His throat works with a swallow, but he doesn’t respond.
Not until my hand slides lower, and I wrap my fingers around his thick cock. It pulses in my palm, and he hisses.
“I take care of myself,” he rasps.
I don’t like that answer.
“I want to be the one who takes care of you,” I whisper, beginning to stroke him, feeling him grow harder with every pull. “Will you let me do that for you? Will you let me be the woman who takes care of you?”
“Fuck,” he groans, his head falling back. “You’re killing me, Amelia.”
Without breaking eye contact, I sink to my knees, the shower raining down on me. “Let me take care of you, Maddox,” I repeat, before taking him into my mouth.
His groan echoes off the tile walls as I take him deeper, my tongue swirling around his tip before sliding along his length. His hands find my hair, and he anchors himself as I work him with both my mouth and my hands.
“Amelia,” he warns, his voice strangled. “I’m going to—”
Before he can finish, he pulls me off him, hauling me to my feet.
In one fluid motion, he lifts me against his chest. My legs wrap around his waist, and my arms wrap around his neck as he balances me with one arm and reaches with his free hand to shut off the water.
He steps out of the shower, not bothering with towels, and carries me dripping wet into the bedroom.
He lays me down on the bed, hovering over me, water from his body dripping onto mine. His eyes roam my face, then lower to my breasts.
“These fucking tits,” he murmurs, lowering his head to take one nipple into his mouth. “I fucking love them.”
The scrape of his teeth sends an electric shock through me. I arch beneath him, gasping as he sucks and licks. He moves to the other breast, giving it the same attention while his hand kneads the first.
His mouth continues trailing hot kisses down my sternum, across my ribs, stopping to suck a mark onto my hip bone. My fingers tangle in his wet hair as he moves lower, pushing my thighs apart.
“Maddox,” I breathe, watching as he settles between my legs.
His eyes lock with mine as he presses a kiss to the inside of my thigh, then bites down gently, sucking another mark into my skin.
“Mine,” he growls, moving to the other thigh to leave a matching mark.
Then his fingers are there, spreading me open, sliding through my pussy. He groans at how ready I am for him, pushing one thick, calloused finger inside me, then another. His thumb circles my clit as his fingers curl upward, finding that spot that drives me to the point of insanity.
“Please,” I whimper, my hips rising to meet his hand.
He pumps his fingers in and out, then pulls them out completely, and a whimper escapes the back of my throat.
I’m about to protest when he crawls back up my body, positioning himself between my legs. The blunt head of his cock nudges against my entrance, and then he’s pushing inside, slow and steady, filling me completely.
We both moan when he’s fully seated. He braces himself above me, arms trembling slightly as he begins to move.
“Look at me,” he commands softly.
I open my eyes, meeting his intense gaze.
“That’s it baby, you keep those pretty eyes on me when I fuck you.”
I wrap my legs around him, drawing him deeper. His pace quickens, his thrusts becoming harder. One hand slides between us to rub my clit, and I shatter around him, crying out his name.
He follows moments later, his body tensing as he spills himself inside me, his face buried in my neck, my name on his lips.
Afterward, he gathers me against his chest, both of us still damp, sticky with sweat and each other’s releases. Neither of us move to clean up or get under the covers.
We just lie there, limbs entangled.
His heart beating steadily beneath my ear as his fingers play with my hair.
Two people who found their way back to one another, silently taking care of each other.