AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Max:Jackson Lofts.
What? He didnotlive in the Jackson lofts. Technically, his buildingwasonly a few blocks from mine, but a few blocks up-freaking-town. I texted:You live IN the Old Market??
Max:Yeah.
I knew Max had a good job at a firm his dad either owned or was a partner in, but those lofts were IT. Exposed beams, high ceilings, big windows, and in the center of the coolest part of the city.
How could he afford a place like that?
Me:I had no idea you were so fancy.
Max:Fuck right off. You should come up.
My heart skittered to a near stop, both from the idea of going into his house and also the combination of the wordfuckand him inviting me to his abode.
I texted:You just want to have sex with me again.
I grabbed my foot and stretched while I waited for his response, wondering if he’d changed his mind, while knowing that he absolutely had not.
Max:We will not be doing that, Steinbeck, but come up and we’ll discuss.
Oh, this sounded fun. Did I really want to subject myself to his friendly rejection?I’ve run five miles since you saw me, totally on the other side of town by now.
Max:I expect to hear your buzz in no less than four minutes.
I sighed and texted:Fine.
When I got to his building three minutes later, I walked through the two big glass doors and pressed the button forparks 504in the vestibule.
“Take the elevator to five,” I heard.
“Thanks,” I muttered, grinning as I walked over to the elevators.
As the car traveled up to the fifth floor, I realized I was nervous.
Why was I nervous?
This was my friend Max, the partner in crime I always felt comfortable with, even when he was looking at me naked.
So why were butterflies going wild in my stomach as the doors opened on the fifth floor?
I knocked on his door, but when it opened, I wasn’t ready for it.
I wasn’t ready for the absolute kick in the sternum it was to come face-to-face with the man I’d been having sexual replays about all day. He was wearing those glasses again—God help my lady parts—with a plain gray T-shirt and a pair of black basketball shorts.
Very innocuous outfit, but on him, it was the male equivalent of lingerie.
The shirt was soft and loose but clung to his broad chest, the baggy shorts a foil for the hard muscles of his strong thighs.
And he smelled freshly showered, reminding me of fourteen hours ago, when I’d showeredwith him.
And thoroughly explored those rock-hard thighs with my mouth.
“Hi,” I said, feeling like a complete slob in my messy ponytail and threadbare Huskers T-shirt.
“Hi,” he replied, pulling the door open further and giving me a very nice smile. “Come in.”
“Gee thanks,” I said, not really sure why I was being sarcastic but feeling a little... off-kilter.
