Page 67 of Off Court Fix

But like most of the mistakes I’ve made in my life, I chose the wrong option, thinking I could handle it and make things right.

I’m about to tell her to take her apology back when voices—one voice in particular—make the hair at the back of my neck stand at full attention.

“Shit. Get down.”

“What?”

“Down,” I hiss.

There’s no place to actuallyhideon Dave’s boat, which is something I didn’t consider before I asked to take it out for the day.

Laughter’s coming from the shore now, and I can see the group of people on the dock. But I recognize the shadowed shape of a tall, stocky body and silently groan. The truth is, I’d rather the chairman of the Tennis Association see me with Maxine at the moment instead of Hunter.

I place one hand on Maxine’s shoulder, pushing her down firmly, shushing her as she objects until she kneels between me and the helm, staying quiet.

Hunter and whoever is with him—another man I don’t recognize and a woman, ayoungerwoman—are making their way along the dock, and I don’t have too many options here. I can kill the engine and float awkwardly thirty feet away from them, hoping that the people Hunter is with are as obtuse and oblivious as he is. Or I can proceed to the dock, into our slip, and flat-out ignore them, leave Maxine where she is as I pull us in, and wait them out.

Except, judging by the feel of fingers creeping up my legs, Maxine has other plans, apparently.

“Stop that.” I drop a hand from the wheel to try and swat her own that has slipped beneath my now dry swimsuit. Her nails scratch at my inner thigh. I wish my threat was somehowthreatening, but my nerves are maxed between keeping an eye on Hunter’s movements and not sending us barreling into the dock. “I mean it.”

Maxine straightens, rising up on her knees. Even though her voice is kept to a whisper, I can hear it over the hum of the engine and feel her breath when she lifts my t-shirt to run her tongue along the elastic waistband. “Oh... I’m counting on you meaning it.”

Her lips on my stomach draw quivers.

“What happened to having some fun?” she asks. “Isn’t that what today was about?”

Maxine withdraws her hands from the openings of my swim trunks and rests them on my hips. A warm tongue traces the trail of hair from my navel down, and god damn, my bare feet slip against the deck. It’s already difficult to keep eyes on Hunter given the poor light from the dock, and I’m relieved when his shadow disappears into nothing, his booming voice waning to whispers as they walk in the opposite direction.

I go for option A and kill the engine, giving the wheel a slight turn left so the boat spins away from the dock and shore.

Looking down, I find Maxine’s face mostly cast in shadows from the small, warm lightbulb above us. But what I do manage to see on her face, clear as day, is a wicked little grin.

“You think it’s funny?” I ask.

It might be ridiculous to hide a grown woman as if we were teenagers and I’ve snuck her into my bedroom and my mother has knocked on the door. But I’m doing this more for her than I am myself. Maxine doesn’t seem to be aware that there’s a rush of adrenaline now pumping through my veins, and it’s flooded out the coddling and care I wanted to provide her with moments before. What’s there now? A cocktail of annoyance with the slightest twist of rage on the rocks.

Maxine cocks her head to the side. “Does it look like I’m laughing?”

It’s clear she’s messing with me because Maxine giggles and I shake my head. She doesn’t get it. We’re playing this game by my rules, not hers.

I run my tongue along my bottom lip before biting it and reaching down to grab her chin. Maxine lets out a surprised yelp.

“The only thing I want to hear out of that pretty little mouth of yours is the sound of you gagging on it.”

My words are full of intent andharsh, but this girl, she runs her tongue along her top teeth and as quickly as I’ve grabbed her face, she rips down my swim trunks, letting them pool at my feet.

And even faster than that, Maxine takes me into her hot little mouth, making my knees buckle. I grab the thin pole supporting the canopy above us, feeling as if I might bend it like a metal spoon as my head falls back.

I make an exception to the rule I had given her. I’ll take the quiet sounds, like these moans, whatever comes from Maxine’s mouth, because they vibrate against my dick, heightening and stretching the sensitive pleasure.

“Fuck,” I growl, and I’m desperate for more light, so I can see how fucking gorgeous she looks with those mauvy, plump lips wrapped around me like I’m her favorite treat in the world.

I rock my hips forward, and god, Maxine doesn’t just gag, she fuckingwhimpers, and I’m a second away from losing my mind.

I look down, seeing my own chest filling and deflating with air at a rapid pace, but I don’t feel how hard it is for me to breathe at the moment. What do I feel? Maxine’s tongue, the inside of her cheeks, the soft pillow at the back of her throat.

I tilt my head, which gets me out of my own way, and I’ve got a shadowed—but clearer—view of Maxine on her knees. Here I was thinking earlier she never looked more beautiful than up against the sunset, but I was wrong. No painting done by God or van Gogh of heaven or the sky will ever compare to what I see now. I hiss and shut my eyes because it’s too much.

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