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I clear my throat. “It’s a chance for a little rest and relaxation before the race. Don’t worry, I’ll be doing lots of work while I’m there. And it’s only a couple of hours from the track in case I need to get there quickly before practice.”
“How is everyone on the team treating you?” my father asks.
“Good,” I say slowly, and when he eyes me suspiciously, I quickly follow with, “Excellent, actually. No problems so far.”
“Esteban looked solid. And Max was superb as always.”
“Yes, he was.” I can’t meet my mother’s gaze because I’m worried I’ll reveal too much. “Oh, look at the time. I have a plane to catch.”
I kiss my parents good-bye, once again beg my mother not to kill my plants while staying at my condo, and leave the hospital. As arranged, Max is already at the executive airport on the plane by the time I arrive, and we take off without any contact with the media. Max’s presence at the charity event seems to have appeased them.
Once again, on the flight and the ride from the private airport in Canada to the cabin, we barely talk with each other beyond a few race details. I work on my laptop and he’s on his phone. But there are long, lingering looks, and every time I glance over at him, he’s staring at me with a half smile that cuts into my heart like a blade. Every minute we spend together the air between us crackles and sparks like an electrical storm. Getting each other out of our systems is the best idea we’ve ever had.
Somehow, not acknowledging each other’s presence beyond business makes me even hotter, and the minute we get inside the cabin, we collide. I wrap him in a giant hug, and he lifts me off the floor, twirling me around.
“Don’t you want to look around the cabin?” he asks. As he puts me on my feet, I slide slowly down his body.
I swivel my head and take in the new surroundings. It’s a log cabin, decorated with a few tasteful moose knickknacks. Very Canadian. The furniture screams of luxury and pine, and the open floor plan with the living room–kitchen combo is pleasantly benign.
“I’d rather look around the bedroom.”
He laughs and grabs my hand. “Let’s go exploring, then.”
It doesn’t take long for us to find the main bedroom, or for me to wrap my arms around him and press my lips against his neck.
Max and I move together toward the bed as we kiss, a fierce, quick dance that ends when the backs of my knees hit the bed. He presses me back and cages my body with his hands. We’re still kissing, and the reality of what we’re doing makes everything a little off kilter, as if the world is tilting off its axis because of our intensity together.
I tug at the hem of his T-shirt and he impatiently strips it away so my fingers can stroke his sinewy, powerful chest. He abruptly stands, just out of my grasp, and I’m about to protest when he undoes his jeans and lowers them, and his underwear, to the floor, kicking off his shoes.
He laughs a little when he sees me staring at his erection. He’s heartbreakingly beautiful, too handsome for me. The sun has made his skin a light tan, his hair golden, and his eyes a crystal blue.
“I like,” I murmur, reaching for him.
We move into the middle of the bed.
“Your turn,” he says, slowly skimming his hand under my shirt. I wriggle out of my shirt and he traces the lace on my bra, the spot above my nipple.
“This is a very pretty piece of lingerie.”
“I have matching panties.”
“Let me see.”
I raise my hips and slide off my skirt, revealing the matching black lace panties. He sucks in a breath as he studies me.
“I love looking at you,” he finally says. “It’s my favorite thing in the world.”
His fingertips slowly skim down my stomach and lower. I open my legs a little and he traces the edge of my panties. He starts with the elastic band below my belly button, then trails his fingers to the band circling my right leg. His touch teases, and I’m getting wetter by the second.
If only he’d move a few inches.
I shift impatiently and whimper a little, hoping his fingers will touch the most desperate, needy part of me. He chuckles and strokes my leg, sending another electric current right to my clit.
With an even slower journey, he traces the inside of my thigh, all the way up to my pussy. And that’s when he makes tantalizing, maddening circles right over my clit.
“So wet,” he whispers. His eyes are half lidded, lazily going from my face to my body.
“Max,” I murmur.
