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It wasn’t about ego though, so much as a thousand and one precious hopes, hopes that had formed deep in her soul since the moment they met, hopes she couldn’t untangle from her real self now, hopes that were taking over completely.
“Being attracted to you is not an option.”
“What does that even mean?”
He made a low, growling sound but when he spoke his voice was soft, patient. “I’m here to keep you safe, not take you to bed. No matter how…fascinating…I find that idea, it would be completely inappropriate.”
Stars shone behind her eyes. She heard what he was saying, but she clung to his admission, that he was as fascinated by the idea of being with her as she was with him.
“Do you think my apartment’s not safe?”
She looked around, then turned back to him, using the movement as an excuse to get even closer, so now their bodies were held together, her face tilted a little to stare up at him.
“You have no idea what you’re doing, Max.”
“Don’t I?” Her smile was impish. “How can you know that?”
Something sparked in the depths of his eyes. “You’re playing with fire and it’s going to burn us both.”
Even that – a warning – was only capable of inflaming her desire. “Do you really care right now?”
“Less than I should.”
“Me too.”
“I’m not here to do this.”
“Why can’t you be both? You’ve already said how good you are at taking pleasure from your work…”
Despite the tension, he laughed, a low, throbbing sound of appreciation. She caught his chin, running her fingertips over his cheek, so his laugh cut short and his eyes sought hers, as though he were lost and she were, somehow, a lifeline.
“You’re my best friend’s sister.” He said the words like an invocation, as though to remind himself as well as Max.
“I’m also a grown woman. Gray has no say in the men I sleep with.”
His eyes flared – the direct statement taking away any innuendo and inference, stripping it all so there was just the bald fact of what they were discussing.
“That doesn’t mean we should screw around behind his back.”
He was going to step away from her. She could feel it. Impatience lashed her spine, and she lifted up onto the tips of her toes. “Let’s make a deal.”
“What do you suggest?”
“I’m going to kiss you.” Her eyes fell to his lips and she licked her own, desire ravaging her nervous system. “If you want me to stop, then so be it. But I don’t think one kiss will be enough, Noah.” She paused, waiting for him to say something.
He didn’t.
“Shall we see if I’m right?”
He swore softly under his breath, and then it was Noah who was kissing Max, his head dropping to close the distance between them almost as if dragged against his will, his lips pressing to hers in what he’d possibly expected to be a chaste brush. But the second their lips were in contact it was like they were welded together, sparks flying as his hands caught her face, holding her right where she was, his fingers splayed wide at her cheeks so his mouth could move over hers, his tongue dueling with hers, his body tight and aching to lose himself in Max.
She groaned, lifting one leg, pressing it behind his, so her sex was close to his arousal, rolling her hips in a silent, desperate invitation for so much more than just this one kiss. But Noah was an expert of control and even when Max was spiraling well beyond the world they inhabited, well beyond knowing where and who she was, Noah was still Noah.
He dropped his hands to her hips, lifting her with ease and carrying her to the kitchen without breaking their kiss, sitting her on the edge of the bench, his hands resting on her thighs as he overpowered every single one of her meager defenses, showing the ravages of his own, his hands finding the bare flesh beneath her blouse, his fingertips brushing her there until goosebumps exploded over her skin. He pushed her shirt up, finding the lace of her bra and unceremoniously thrusting it aside so her breasts spilled out of the delicate fabric, her nipples taut and desperate for attention. He plucked them, cupping her breasts, whispering into her mouth as he kissed her, then moved his attention to her jaw, his stubble marking her skin pink as he brushed his mouth over her there, taking an earlobe into his mouth and wobbling it so she cried out at the unexpected explosion of need.
Her breath was frantic, like she’d run a thousand marathons, and her forehead was beaded in perspiration. She tore away from him purely so she could rip her blouse from her head, needing to be naked with him, needing him to take her to bed and make love to her until she couldn’t think about anything but the perfection of this.
“I need this tonight,” she groaned, tilting her head back, staring at the ceiling as his mouth sought one of her nipples, flicking it so she moaned, her fingers curling into his shirt. It was all too much – and over all too-quick. He pulled up, his skin ashen, his eyes filled with self-condemnation, as though he couldn’t believe what he’d just been doing.
