Postcards From… Collection. Maisey YatesЧитать онлайн книгу.
stared at him, unable to believe that he wanted more when they’d just consumed each other. Her gaze dropped to his thighs where he was growing harder by the second.
Unbelievable.
“You are T-Rex,” she said without thinking. “Insatiable.”
“Maybe it depends what’s on offer,” he said, his French accent very pronounced.
He rolled toward her, his hand finding her breast as he leaned close to kiss her. Warmth cascaded through her body as his tongue stroked hers.
There was no time for regret, she realized. Not tonight. This wasn’t over, not by a long shot.
MAX WOKE TO FIND HIMSELF tangled in Maddy’s hair. She lay curled away from him on her side.
He couldn’t get enough of her. He’d made love to her all night, like a man possessed. He’d brought her to climax again and again, and always she’d met him, matching need for need, passion for passion.
She’d asked him to make her forget. He figured he’d fulfilled his part of the bargain, and then some.
He disentangled himself and slid to the edge of the bed, feeling the full weight of what lay in store for him today. Another speech about regret and friendship from Maddy, no doubt. And, more than likely, her departure. Now that she had faced the reality of her retirement, there was nothing to keep her here. She’d want to go home, back to her apartment and her friends and her life.
He glanced over his shoulder, his eyes tracing the curves of her body. She was so beautiful, so compelling. How was he ever going to forget her?
He closed his eyes and let his shoulders drop. The old, familiar ache tightened his chest. Stupid to fall for the same unattainable woman twice in one lifetime. But it was done, and only time would undo it.
“Good morning.”
Her voice sounded husky, deeper than usual. He glanced across in time to see her pulling the sheet up to cover her breasts.
The contrast to the easy, erotic intimacy of last night was profound. Just in case he had any doubts about where he stood, her instinctive gesture told him everything he needed to know.
“How are you doing?” he asked.
She was still his friend, after all, and last night had been a watershed in her life.
She shrugged a shoulder.
“I’m not sure. I feel like I’m waiting for something else to happen. The other shoe to drop.”
“Yeah. But it will get better. You’ll work it out.” He took a deep breath. “I guess you’ll be heading home soon, then?”
There was a short pause before she answered.
“I guess so. There’s nothing keeping me here anymore, after all.”
Was it his imagination, or was there a slight question in her tone? He studied her, but her expression was unreadable.
Grasping at straws, man. Have a little dignity.
He reached for his boxer-briefs, lying discarded on the floor. He didn’t need to look to know she glanced away when he stood and pulled them on.
The joys of the morning after.
“I’m going to grab a shower,” he said.
That would give her time to pull herself together, something she clearly wasn’t comfortable doing while he was around.
“Sure.”
He headed down the stairs, his shoulders rigid with tension. Suddenly the thought of her going, of her not filling his space with the sound of her voice and her flowery perfume seemed like a really great idea.
He shut the bathroom door with too much force. What he really wanted to do was kick it, or punch a hole in something.
She’d offered him a taste of what he wanted, and he was going to have to live off the memory for the rest of his life. Meanwhile, she would walk away having found comfort or indulged her curiosity or whatever the hell she’d been doing last night and the other night at the Latin club.
“Putain de merde!” he swore harshly, turning away from the mirror so he wouldn’t have to look at his own sorry face.
He turned on the shower full force, welcoming the bombardment as he stepped beneath the water. He turned his face into the flow, then reached for the soap to wash her scent from his skin.
The screech of the shower curtain being yanked open filled the bathroom. Startled, he turned to find Maddy standing there wearing nothing but his shirt from the night before, the tails flapping against her bare legs, her hands planted squarely on her hips.
“I just want to know one thing,” she said, her chin thrust out. “Did you sleep with me last night because you felt sorry for me and you were playing knight in shining armor again?”
“I could ask you the same thing.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“We’ve been friends for years, and suddenly out of nowhere sex has become part of the equation. Why have the rules suddenly changed, Maddy?”
She opened her mouth, then closed it without saying anything.
“I asked you first,” she said.
He stared at her.
“You kissed me,” he reminded her. “Both times.”
Her gaze slid over his shoulder and she shuffled from one foot to the other. The silence stretched between them.
She didn’t want to say it, he realized. Didn’t want to tell him she’d had an itch and he’d scratched it, that any handy man would have done.
“Fine,” he said, reaching for the shower curtain, ready to shut her out.
“I saw you,” she said in a rush.
He froze.
“That day when Charlotte called having problems with the babysitter. I knocked on the bathroom door to let you know she needed to speak to you, but you didn’t answer. So I opened the door to tell you. And you were…you had your hands full. Really full,” she said meaningfully.
Shit.
He closed his eyes as a wave of fiery heat rushed up the back of his neck and into his face. Even as a teenager he’d never been busted taking care of business. That Maddy had caught him redhanded—while he’d been fantasizing about her—was as bad as it could get.
“It was the sexiest, hottest damn thing I’ve ever seen in my life, Max.”
For a second he thought he’d imagined her words. He opened his eyes and stared at her. She was the one blushing now, but her gaze was unwavering.
“I never let myself think about you like that. Ever. I valued you as my friend too much. But seeing you naked and hard…I couldn’t get it out of my head,” she said.
He blinked. Maddy was hot for him. Finally, after all these years, she was hot for him.
Her hands were twisting in the fabric of his shirt, and one foot rubbed the other self-consciously as the silence stretched.
It had cost her to confess what she’d seen. He felt he owed her the same honesty.
“I’ve always been attracted to you,” he said boldly.
Her gaze flicked up, locked with his.
“What?”
“I’ve always wanted you. From the moment I first met you.”
Her eyes widened.
“That day in the shower I was thinking about you. Imagining you were in here with me. Imagining I was inside you, touching you.”
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