Page 48 of Risk It All
On cue, I position him, wrap my legs around him and pull him into me. He slides in deep, filling me, sending exquisite sensations from my center outward. His body moves slowly, steadily, building the pleasure degree by degree.
“Perfect,” he murmurs, trailing his lips along my collarbone. “So damn perfect.”
I have to agree as his hips shift and he sinks even deeper into me. He stirs something deep in my soul, touches a place there that has never been touched before. This isn't just two bodies fulfilling a basic, primal need. There's a connection that runs deeper than simple lust or attraction.
I reach for him, pulling him to me in another kiss. I want him to know, to feel as I do, that this connection is something more. He returns my kiss until I'm breathless.
In an instant, he rears up, his hands grabbing my hips and his slow, steady rhythm switching to frenetic, frantic. I cry out as his movements intensify the sensations that he's sending through me.
He lets out an expletive. Then he slides his thumb over that one exquisite spot at my apex and pleasure bursts through me, fast, hard until I see stars. I'm vaguely aware of Max letting out a feral cry, then his body plunges, holds, retreats, and plunges again.
I hold on to him, wanting to keep him close. His heart beats against mine, together in time. I wish we could stay like this forever.
Max
I kissher temple as I gather her close. The words, “I love you,” skim through my brain. It doesn't seem possible that I'm in love. Yes, Madeleine is an amazing woman. Yes, I respect and care for her. Yes, there's a deeper connection between us than I've ever felt with any other woman. But love?
I want love and forever, but it's an emotion that baffles me. How would I know love when it came, if it came? I shake my head of the thought and instead hold her, wanting to savor whatever it is that's between us.
Once I catch my breath, I lift my head to stare down into her amber eyes and my heart clinches hard.Jesus. This has to be love.
“You okay?” she asks.
I consider telling her the truth, but in a rare moment of cowardice, I don’t. Instead, I grin. “I think I just saw God.”
She smiles back. “Angels were definitely singing.”
I give her a quick kiss and then help her up. I pull her robe back over her shoulders. “I was thinking we haven't talked about what's going to happen when we get home.”
The residual passion in her eyes dissipates and I curse myself for bringing us back to the real world too soon.
“I guess we should. Let me clean up and we can talk.”
I nod. “The champagne is warm, but I think there's wine if you want.”
“A glass would be nice.”
While she cleans up, I get my robe and then pour us each a glass of white wine. I wait on the couch until she joins me. She sits next to me, but not too close. I want to touch her, but decide maybe she's right in keeping some distance until we figure out our next step.
“I need to get back to L.A. soon.” I desperately want to ask to her to go with me.
“You probably have a lot of work to catch up on. Plus figuring out what you're going to do with the information you got on this trip.”
“I'll need a week or two, but being the boss, I can make time. I want to see you, Madeleine.” There, I said it.
She smiles, but to my mind she looks nervous. “I'm really busy . . . over the next ten weeks or so.”
“Ten weeks!” I'm unable to hide my surprise and disappointment.
“I'll have a few days in New York when we get back, but then I've got a week-long conference in Florida and several weeks in Mexico for a new story I'm working on. After that, I'll be in Virginia. My mom has planned a big party for my dad's birthday. It's been awhile since I've been home, so I promised them a week, at least. After that, I'm back in New York, but I'll be meeting with a group about a trip to Tibet.”
I can only stare for a moment. “You can't make any time? Not even a weekend?”
“I don't see how.”
Heart clinches the way it had when I was eight and realized the family that I'd hoped would adopt me had changed its mind. It's that broken abandoned part of me that overwhelms the rational part of my brain telling me to tread carefully lest I become like all the other men in her life that couldn't handle her career.
“Do you want to see me?”
