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“She thinks Jakob is going to propose.”
“He is.”
“How do you know that?”
“He told me.”
“You think she’ll say yes?”
“I don’t think Jakob will take no for an answer if she doesn’t.”
“Probably not,” I agree.
He goes quiet, and I wonder what he’s thinking about. Max never wants to get married. He told me that once at Lorenzo’s wedding, although that was a long time ago. But he told me again at Dante’s, when he’d drunk too much whiskey, and that was only last year. I guess people can change their minds though, right? Because I told him I’d never get married either. I had no desire to do the whole settling down thing. I wanted to experience freedom and explore my options, but Max gives me an entirely different type of freedom. One that lets me be exactly who I am with no judgment or constraints.
“Where are you, baby girl?” he asks, dusting his fingers over my cheek.
Not wanting to ruin the mood of the evening, I decide to lie. “Thinking about dinner.”
“It’s my turn to cook.”
“I know. But I wanted seafood linguine, so I picked up some fresh pasta and made the sauce earlier. I can finish up while you grab a shower.”
“You have had a busy day.”
“Hmm. I’m very skilled and efficient when I need to be.”
“Yes, you areveryskilled.”
“I’m also very hungry.” I give him a soft kiss on the cheek. “So I’m going to finish dinner.”
Groaning, he rolls out of bed and starts to undress. “I guess I’ll grab a shower and then I’ll come help.”
I lie back and watch him get naked, enjoying the show. He’s perfect. Every muscle perfectly toned and tight. Tattoos cover almost every inch of flesh from his neck to his knuckles, all the way down to that perfect V beneath his abs. Each one is a work of art. No matter how long I stare at them, I find something new every time. But his arms are my favorite part about him—aside from his huge pierced dick, obviously—curled up in them is my favorite place to be in the world.
ChapterFifty-Eight
MAX
Walking into the kitchen after my shower, I find my girl wearing my shirt from earlier, sleeves rolled up while she stirs the pasta sauce. Her wearing my clothes makes me hard as fucking stone for her and she knows it. Something about her being wrapped in my scent and the way it lingers on her skin makes me feel something primal that I’ve never experienced before in my life. I fucking love when she smells of me. But everything about this girl makes me feel like an animal. I thought that us living together might curb my insatiable appetite for her just a little, but it’s ramped up even further. I can barely look at her without wanting to mount her like some oversexed hound dog.
She turns and gives me a sexy half smile before she goes back to the stove. Fortunately for me, Joey is as insatiable as I am. I don’t know how this girl manages to walk with the amount of time I spend inside her.
“You hungry, tough guy?” she asks sweetly as she turns off the burner.
“Always.”
She giggles softly. “I meant for food.”
I grab the silverware and go to the fridge for a bottle of wine while she plates the food. We move around each other as though we’ve been doing this our whole lives, each of us fitting seamlessly into the other’s space. I don’t know how I survived so long without her in my life this way. But I do know I wouldn’t survive losing her. Not today. Not ever.
* * *
“That was delicious, baby girl,”I tell her as I push my plate away.
“Thank you,” she says with a huge smile, her cheeks flushing at my words.
She’s such slut for praise.
