Chapter 28
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
I jump straight up in the air, whirling around to see Princess right by the stool, scrambling to get back to his feet. Above him is a plate of food. The sound must have been him falling off the chair.
Princess gives an unimpressed flick of his tail, then stalks off.
“Don’t look,” I whisper. “He doesn’t want us to know we saw.” At least, I think that’s what I’m saying. My head is spinning from what we just did, and all I can think of is Maddox, Maddox, Maddox.
I want more. I want everything. I want Maddox to take what he wants from me right here and now.
Maddox makes a small sound, and I can feel the vibration in his chest because I’m still holding him, and I don’t want to let him go. Ever.
And then I get another whiff of alcohol, and suddenly, I’m washed with shame. Is Maddox drunk? Am I taking advantage of him right now?
I try to pull away, but Maddox pulls me closer, his strong arms banding around me with a force that suggests my movement is completely up to him.
“Where are you going?” His breath brushes my neck, and I shiver, brushing my hands down his back.
“Are you… Is this okay?” I hate saying it, but I want to know that Maddox is okay, truly.
Maddox stiffens, then his lips are on my neck, kissing and sucking and sending shivers down my spine. He nuzzles his way up the side of my neck and laps at my ear. He does it over and over, on all sides, almost like he’s examining me.
“Maddox,” I gasp, still running my hands up and down his back. His strong back, where I can feel the muscles flexed from holding me in place.
“Micah.” He drags out the last part of my name with a slight mocking tone, and my knees buckle. Maddox holds me upright with ease. He doesn’t seem drunk. At least, not that drunk.
But semi-drunk is still drunk. I pull my hands from around Maddox’s back and try to shove them between us. It’s like trying to shove against a rock wall, albeit a warm, soft wall. Fudge, I didn’t think I was weak, but up against Maddox? My arms may as well be wet tissues.
Maddox just buries his nose deeper in my neck, pulling in a breath, and I feel my resolve weakening. I’m not doing anything to him. If anything, he’s doing it to me. So we’re okay. This is okay.
Maddox’s hard-on is pressing into my lower stomach, and it sends a thrill through my entire body. Maddox is hard. For me. I shiver, my pelvis brushing against him and making my entire body light up.
“Micah.” This time, there’s something in Maddox’s voice, a husky sort of desperation or frustration.
“Yeah?” I can barely get the word out; my throat is tight. I want this. I want everything. I want more. But not while he’s drunk.
And for an agonizing moment, there’s nothing but charged silence between us, and I think Maddox is going to ask me something.
Then, Maddox pulls away, ripping his hands through his hair, muttering, “What am I doing?”
I feel the loss like I stepped away from a fire, the space where Maddox isn’t touching me instantly cold.
“Wait.” I can’t help it. I step into Maddox, and when he turns back to me, his eyes are glassy, and he stumbles a bit.
I stop short.
“I…”
And then, he’s gone.