18. Summer
Chapter Eighteen
Summer
A lice leads us to the hottest new club in Camelot. The building looks like a cathedral from the outside, its turrets high and pointing to the sky, but the beings forming the queue out the door suggest it is anything but a divine space.
She takes my hand, and we stride past them all, walking straight to the front of the line. She doesn’t even have to say anything. The bouncer simply unclips the velvet barrier and allows us entry. The second we breach the door, the music thuds through my body, rattling my bones.
Alice pulls me through the mass of people, weaving through the bodies plastered to each other as we push toward the bar. The haze from the shots we downed before leaving makes it so I don’t even mind the contact. I’m not drunk, just a little warmer and friendlier.
At the bar, Alice immediately gets the attention of not one, but two bartenders, and promptly orders us two more shots each. I down them both easily and savor the blissful feeling of all my emotions dulling. I can breathe again.
Alice takes my hand and leans in to be heard over the roar of the music. “Dance?”
I nod, and she pulls me through the mass of people again to what feels like the center of the dance floor, but I really have no idea.
This club is so big. I sway to the music, allowing it to flow through me.
The ghosts of the past press against my body, but thanks to the alcohol, I don’t feel the burden of them quite so much.
When Alice spins me out, I stumble, and I’m surprised when a small laugh escapes me.
Alice’s eyes brighten a little at the sound.
It was nothing more than a soft giggle, quiet and light, but her vampiric hearing allows her to hear it even over the beat of the music, and I can see it fills her with joy.
We’re approached several times by males trying their luck, but Alice always protects me. She either pushes them away or flashes her fangs and hisses at them. We dance, allowing ourselves to let loose, to be free, to be young and unburdened. Just for a little while.
Alice spins me out again, but this time I slam into a wall of hard muscle. A pair of large hands grip my hips in an almost familiar way. “Fuck. I’m sor—” I begin, looking up to have my gaze lock with Max’s deep brown eyes.
Shit.
The last time I saw Max was terrible. I barely remember it now, but I remember being truly awful to him and the sound of him slamming the front door as he left.
He’s gone.
His words echo through my brain, even though I know it wasn’t his fault. None of it was.
“Summer,” he says, blinking down at me, and I don’t miss the way his hands tighten a little on my waist.
“Max,” I gasp out, swallowing hard and unsure what to say to him. He should hate me. I would if I were him.
“Hi,” he says, also uncertain. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Same, I guess.” It’s true. The last place in the world I expected to see him was in a club.
He clears his throat. “Want to dance?” he asks.
“Oh . . . I . . .” I stumble over my response, his question catching me off guard.
Max pulls me to him, the hard lines of his body pressing against me. “You’re overthinking this,” he says.
I glance down at his hands. They have slipped down to rest lower on my hips.
Why do I like them there? He moves his body against mine almost tentatively, like he is asking a question.
I don’t respond immediately, almost afraid to answer, paralyzed by my memories.
This isn’t like dancing with Alice. There is something strangely intimate about it.
He lifts my chin, his gaze locking with mine, drawing me into the dark depths of his eyes.
The heat from his body seeps into my skin, warming some of those icy-cold spots inside me.
It feels so good that I want more, and I lean into him, seeking more.
“You don’t have to do this,” I say, placing my hands on his chest.
“Do what?”
“This,” I say again, referring to the pity dance.
“I’m not a mind reader. I’ll need more than that.”
“Hang out with me. Dance with me,” I say, stopping and trying to push away from his warmth.
He gives me a look, his hand tightening on my hip. “I’m dancing with you because I want to.”
I frown. “Why would you want that?”
“Because you’re hot, and we’re both a little drunk.”
“Max,” I warn, though I’m not sure what I am warning against.
I know I look hot, and I am sure I look a million times better than I did the last time he saw me, when I must have looked like a bag of bones. Just because he said that doesn’t mean he’s attracted to me. He’s just stating a fact.
“Sum,” he says, interrupting my overthinking. “It’s not complicated.”
Something in his words makes me bristle, and I pull back. “I don’t need your pity.” I throw the words at him like an accusation.
Max tightens his fingers on me and yanks me back to him.
He’s clearly pissed, and I’m expecting to be heavily admonished, but then he surprises me by slamming his lips to mine.
His lips are softer than I thought they’d be, and they expertly mold to mine.
The kiss is hard and fast, and before I have time to react, he pulls back.
“That feels like pity?” he demands, the growl in his voice making something profound within me ignite.
The sound of my heart pounding in my chest is so loud that I can barely hear the music anymore, and my lips still tingle from the press of his. The contrast between Max’s kiss and Connor’s is so stark that they battle each other in my brain.
Max blanches slightly, his face draining of color as he realizes what he’s done. “Fuck, Summer. I’m?.?.?.”
He trails off, and I just stand there, watching him.
I slide my tongue over my slightly swollen lips, that spark continuing to sizzle.
It’s a feeling that has been dormant for months, and I stand very still as it awakens.
My gaze flicks to his mouth. I’m not sure I ever noticed how full his lips are .
Do I want to kiss him again?
My eyes move back up to Max’s. They’re darker than before, and I notice that they’re not fixed on mine, but on my mouth. He starts to move in again, slowly this time, allowing me time to stop him, to pull back, or slap him.
I don’t move, and when his lips brush over mine, I lean in, softly kissing him back. Max’s arms snake around my back. He pulls me in tight, locking my body to his, and I deepen the kiss. He tastes of whiskey and mint, and it makes my head spin.
Max groans, the sound so guttural and filled with desire that it makes my core throb. Startled by the sensation and my instinctual reaction, I’m pulled back into myself, and I pull back, panting.
Max looks down at me, his intense gaze focused wholly on me, and my core throbs again.
“Fuck,” I curse, and then force myself away from him.
The second I’m outside his spell of temptation, I push into a run. I shove people out of the way, uncaring. I just need to get away from Max, from this club, from that feeling. The outside air sobers me completely, and I keep running in the direction of Avalon.
“Summer!” Max calls from behind me, and I can hear him gaining on me.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I consider kicking my heels off. They’re slowing me down too much, but then I feel his hand wrap around my arm, stopping me.
Anger roils inside me. The familiar feeling eclipses everything else, and I lean into it. “What the fuck was that?” I snarl, yanking my arm free of his grip. I don’t think Max deserves this, but I will throw all my rage at him as long as it subdues the need I felt when I was pressed up against him.
“I wasn’t?.?.?.” He hesitates, and then his eyes flash. “I wanted to kiss you.”
“That’s not what happened,” I snap. “What happened is that you saw your broken friend, and you wanted to fix it.”
Max narrows his eyes. “You think I pity you?”
“Fuck you, Max,” I throw at him.
Max moves in quickly and slams his lips to mine.
This kiss is like the first, but not nearly as contained.
He tangles his fingers in my hair and pulls gently, thrusting his tongue past my lips when I gasp from the slight sting of pain.
At least I’m telling myself that’s why I opened for him, not because I wanted him to deepen the kiss .
I moan, that throb in my core alerting me again. I pull back, and this time I slap him hard across the face. The blow has enough power behind it that it forces his head to the side. I see Max’s eyes flash green and feel his muscles ripple against me.
“Run. Or I’m going to fuck you just to prove you wrong,” he says without looking at me.
My core heats at his words, my need intensifying. “Max?.?.?.” Even I can hear that my voice sounds lower, seductive.
“Three?.?.?.” Max begins, slowly turning his head back to face me. “Two?.?.?.” He looks at me, his eyes still flashing with the green of the berserker. “One?—”
I cut him off by slamming my lips to his, unable to hold myself back. The need so desperately deep and undeniable, my body aching to feel?.?.?. alive.
Max lifts me easily and walks into the alley beside the bakery, slamming me against the wall. The rough bricks dig into my back, but I don’t care.
My tongue flicks against his, and he growls, pressing his hard body tighter against me.
He tugs my dress up and slides his hand over my ass.
Gripping my panties, he yanks, the lace pulling tight against my skin before tearing.
I moan at the sweet, delicious sting. The tiny part of my brain that is still rational knows I should pull away. I should stop this now, but I can’t.
Lost in lust, I bite his lower lip hard, knowing it will send him over the edge.
Max roars, and my legs are forced open a little more as his body grows.
The berserker side of him, his id, is pushing forward, and I can’t wait to taste him.
He pulls back and looks at me as he fumbles in his pocket for his wallet, still supporting me with just one arm.
I know he’s giving me time to change my mind as he finds a condom and tears it open, but I won’t.
I kiss him again as he yanks at his pants, opening them and pushing them down over his hips.
He sheaths his length and thrusts his cock inside me, pulling my hips toward him to seat himself deep.
I dig my nails into his shoulders at the feeling of being stretched, and Max’s moan almost completely undoes me.
My body has been craving this, but my grief has been muting my need, overpowering it, but now, there is only the overwhelming desire to feel pleasure, to feel alive, to feel wanted.
Max draws his hips back, and when he shoves himself into me again, the stone scrapes against my ass.
The pain only adds to the intoxicating pleasure.
He hooks his arm under my knee, opening me more for him and thrusting again.
His size is just?.?.?. perfect. I’m stretched just enough for it to be bittersweet.
Buried deep, Max pauses and closes his eyes.
I can see him trying to slow his breathing, and I know he’s attempting to regain some control.
The veins in his neck are thick and pulsing as he struggles to keep his monster in check.
Join the club.
About to beg him to start moving again, I squeeze my internal muscles around his cock and lean forward to lick up his throat.
Max moans, the sound so primal it sends shivers down my spine.
His hands tighten on me, and he withdraws only to thrust hard and fast. It is so fucking perfect that my eyes roll back in my head.
I dig my nails harder into him and drag them down his strong arms. Sticky, warm blood wells beneath my nails, and it seems he also enjoys a little pain with his pleasure, given the way he hammers into me.
I rock my hips, needing more, and Max slams a hand to the wall beside my head.
I hear the brick breaking beneath his palm.
Max deepens the kiss, devouring me. His groans of pleasure make my core spasm with the sweetest of pleasure, and I am completely lost to the feeling.
He bites my lip hard, the coppery taste of my blood making my tongue tingle.
His thrusts become harder, more animalistic, feral, almost punishing, and I am fucking desperate for more. Harder.
The bricks at my back crumble as he thrusts me into the wall, and then it’s there, that newly unfamiliar feeling of the pinnacle of my pleasure. It’s coiling and so close to springing, a condensed heat that I want to bathe in, and it is so, so close.
I feel compelled to reach for it, chase it, and then Max angles my hips and slams into me, hitting the exact right spot.
The world collapses around me, and the pleasure makes every single muscle contract.
My toes curl, and I dig my nails into him harder as I cry out, that apex of pleasure and completion cascading through me, wrecking me.
Max’s thrusts become more erratic, and then a roar rips from his throat as he follows me.
He deepens the kiss, both of us breathless, completely undone.
Max leans heavily against me, my core still trembling around him, but even before the high of my orgasm has cleared from my mind, my body goes rigid.
What have I done?
Max breaks the kiss and pulls back, a cautious look on his face.
I focus on him. It’s not Connor’s face. I knew it would not be. The whole time we were having sex, I knew it wasn’t Connor. I knew it was Max, so why, now that we’ve finished, am I looking at this male, not understanding what just happened?
“Sum?”
My gaze moves to my hand, to my naked ring finger. “What have I done?” I whisper.
Max slowly lowers me to the ground, keeping his enormous hands on my hips to steady me. I am fixated on my ring finger, my empty ring finger, but then my gaze catches on my nails. Max’s blood is beneath them because I just fucked him. I fucked Max.
I cheated. I cheated on Connor.
“Summer,” Max says, drawing my attention back to him.
I blink up at him, wondering if he can see the devastation on my face, wondering if he also feels the guilt of what we’ve just done.
Tears fill my eyes, and I know I need to get away from here.
I push his hands off me and extricate myself from between Max and the wall.
Shoving my dress down, I kick my heels off and bolt out of the alley.
“Summer!” Max calls after me, but I don’t think he’s following me this time.
What have I done?
What have I done?
What the fuck have I done?