Page 10 of Surviving the Break
I’d brilliantly requested he add me to the rotation with a schedule that mirrored his own, without even knowing how much of my time it would entail, and knowing that my days and most of my nights were already accounted for with work. But for once, I found myself wanting to make room.
We’d be meeting at The Center tomorrow to go over my ideas and what I could offer. He had yet to respond to my invite for having drinks after.
My phone chirped, and I reached for it slowly, confused by the rolling waves building in my core. I swiped the screen, biting my cheek to prevent myself from smiling at his one-word reply to my invitation.
Max: Sure.
I silenced the phone and closed my eyes, slipping my hands underneath the fabric resting against my erection. I groaned, running my palm over my flared tip, already leaking. I bent a leg, using my precum-slicked finger to penetrate myself.Mmmm, it’d been too long since someone fucked me there. My hole did not discriminate, it clenched with greed at whatever it could get tonight. My gut rolled, my body begged me for faster and now, but I needed this to be slow. I needed the torture. God, I needed to get laid. Maybe that would take my mind off the conundrum called Max. Until then, this would have to do.
“WHAT’Syour vision for your class?” Max asked, opening the notepad on the desk.
He’d given me the official tour and introduced me to everyone on duty, and we now sat across from each other in the front office going over a rough outline.
“You mentioned The Center’s mission is to be a place of acceptance. A safe haven where play equals learning but no pressure on the latter.”
“Correct. There’s always something to be learned here, but it’s a choice. They’ve already got enough pressure to succeed at school. There’s no pass or fail here. No attendance taking either.”
This approach would remove any apprehension I harbored about taking on the added responsibility. There’d be times when my work duties outside of The Center would conflict with my class time. Getting to know Max was part of the reason I’d suggested taking on this new role, but the work being done there and the kids were a priority for me too. “I’d like to keep it light and fun. Maybe more for the younger ones. The curriculum will be loose, so that if they miss a class, they won’t feel left behind. I’m sure there will be times when I’m unable to make it in as well.” I hadn’t noticed how long his lashes were until then. They were also several shades lighter than his hair. Almost blond. Striking against his chocolate-colored eyes. He tapped his pen impatiently against his pad of paper. No doubt guessing where my mind had gone. “We’d start with the basics. Examining algae. Visit the garden and conservatory to learn about the healing properties found in plants and foods, and how food in general fuels their bodies. Not too much medical jargon. Topics to pique their curiosity and hands-on activities. CPR instruction. Maybe add dissection at some point. Nothing to overwhelm them. Just enough to get their feet wet and engage them.” I waited while he made notes, taking in the rough calluses on his hands and the old scars that had left permanent blemishes on his skin. Knowing how hard he worked with his hands added another layer to my budding attraction. Going by his face alone, I might peg him as a sweet young man. He was clean-shaven, with hair that was always a few weeks out of needing a trim, so that it fell across his face at times. But his hands were dexterous, strong, capable. They built things. Told me things that his sweet, innocent smile couldn’t, and I wanted those hands to tear me apart.
“Sounds good,” he said, shaking me from my inappropriate thoughts. I was grateful for the desk that hid the semi I now sported.
“I’ll get the announcement added to the website, and we can do something more official at the next town hall.” He dropped the pen with a touch of annoyance. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Like what?” I dared him to say it. He worked his jaw.
Scratching at the door saved him from answering. We stood and went into the foyer of the building where a dog circled around him. “This is Pluto,” he said, introducing us.
Pluto trotted over to greet me. “Hey there, Pluto.” He sat on his haunches and allowed me to scratch at his sides. “I think he likes me.” I angled myself so that Max had a view of my back, and I gazed behind me in time to catch him staring at my ass. He blushed.
“I’m not dressed for anything more than a burger and beer.” He pointed to Pluto, who’d brushed up against my leg. “And I’ve got a third wheel.”
Max wore black workman’s boots, faded denim jeans, and a fitted black t-shirt. His signature look. And if he thought bringing Pluto along would discourage me, he was in for disappointment. “I happen to know you’re dressed for more than that,” I said. A not-so-subtle reminder of our night. His audible swallow felt promising. “Burgers and beers sound great.” Justin had already mentioned the name of Max’s favorite eatery. “I hear there’s a great spot not too far from here. The Best Burgers in Town.”
“It’s a great spot.” He eyed my pinstriped suit with skepticism.
“Are you judging my book by its cover, Max?” I teased, and he grabbed unconsciously at a black pearl that hung from a thin gold chain at his neck. It wasn’t the first time he’d done so in my presence.
“Just wasn’t sure you’d be comfortable there. It’s picnic-table seating. They have an outdoor area. That way I won’t have to leave Pluto in the truck.”
I threw out my arm with a flourish. “After you.”
He hesitated, still unsure about what he'd agreed to.
I wanted to ride with Max, but being on call meant I could be pulled away at a moment's notice, so we met there. We were seated at the only empty table out front. After situating Pluto near him, Max gave me his attention, raising a brow when he noticed my eyes lingering near his clavicle.
“You clutch that a lot.” I gestured to my own neck, which instinctively made him reach for his pearl. “Is it some sort of good luck talisman you have to rub three times a day?”
“Something like that.” His eyes took on a faraway look.
“You don’t like talking about yourself.” Our server took our order, then rushed off to get our drinks.
Brown eyes met mine. “Not entirely true. I don’t like rehashing certain aspects of my past is all.”
“Things that cause you discomfort?” I shrugged out of my suit jacket and undid the top buttons of my white shirt. Max followed my movements, his eyes traveling the length of my shoulders as if measuring me. He flushed so prettily when his eyes landed on my laughing ones.
He leaned to his left to rub Pluto, an excuse to pull himself together. “What were you saying?” he asked, fully composed now.
“You were saying you didn’t care to rehash parts of your past. I’d asked if those parts had caused you discomfort.”
