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Max wrings out a few more pulsing, throbbing remnants of my orgasm with his fingers. He knows that my orgasms last a while—at least they do with him—and a second shock rips down my spine and leaves me shuddering. He keeps moving his hand, slowly undulating, circling, and soothing, and I let go once again.
Finally, I’m finished, and I slowly float back to earth and am finally relaxed. My muscles feel like jelly.
He nuzzles my cheek and I can feel his smile against my skin. I’m acutely cognizant that my face is bathed in sweat, that my pussy is coated in my own wetness.
I’m also hyperaware that Max’s arousal is pressing against my hip, a reminder that this is nowhere near over, and that I get to enjoy him for two whole, glorious, uninterrupted days.
“Was that adequate?” he asks in an amused voice.
I sit up and unhook my bra while grinning. “You know it was much more than adequate. You know exactly what you do to me.”
“I’ve never forgotten.” He reaches for my breasts but I squirm out of his touch so I can take off my panties. It’s an interesting statement, but I don’t dwell on it because I have more carnal needs right now.
“Where are the condoms?” I ask, wanting more.
Wanting it all, from him. He takes me hard, and fast, and his orgasm rips through his body.
When we’re finished, I grow drowsy in his arms. The bedroom has a large, floor-to ceiling bank of windows overlooking a vista of green, rolling mountains. The sun’s about to set, and everything feels like a dream.
“I could stay here forever,” I murmur.
Max kisses my forehead. “Me too.”
I remember what Mum said earlier, about asking Max what he has planned for the future. Now would be a good time, but I’d rather not ruin this perfect moment. Long ago, Mum had taught me something else.
Never ask a question that you don’t want the answer to.
Chapter Thirty-Four
MAX
I pull a quilt over Lily’s body, then kiss her temple and slowly slide out of bed. Once I’ve located my boxer briefs and a T-shirt, I throw them on. Even though it’s early evening in July, it’s far enough north to have a slight chill in the air—which is totally welcome considering we’ve been in Florida and Texas in recent weeks.
“Max? Where are you going?” Her voice is gravelly from sleep.
“To make dinner for us.”
She frowns and makes a cute little squeak. “Oh. I didn’t even ask. Do we have food or do we have to order some? Or are we going out?”
I’ve always loved the way she looks when she’s sleepy, all sensual and soft. She sits up halfway. “I can help.”
“No, babe. The rental company stocked the fridge. We never have to leave the bed if we don’t want to. I’ll make dinner. I was thinking about apple pancakes.” Not the most conventional of dinners, but for some reason, I’ve been craving my mom’s recipe—and I know that Lily, with her sweet tooth, will love them.
“Mmmm. That sounds amazing.” She flops back down and closes her eyes, her lashes almost touching the tops of her cheeks. Her breathing becomes deeper.
For a solid minute, I sit on the side of the bed, watching her sleep. She’s so gorgeous that I almost ache a little inside, but part of me is wondering where this is going, and what I’m doing.
There’s no question that sleeping with her—my team owner’s daughter, who is currently in charge of the team—is poor judgment. But the feelings I’ve harbored for her all these years have come rushing back in full force.
Giving her up again will be impossible.
I pad into the kitchen and quickly text Lucas. He knows where I am, and doesn’t approve. But he also knows me well enough to know that when my mind is made up I can’t be talked into changing it. I assemble my ingredients. Like racing, I’m precise when I do anything, whether it’s working out or cooking. Before we arrived here I made sure that we had only the best, freshest organic ingredients delivered, and I’m not disappointed.
Mostly, I want to show Lily that I’m now capable in the kitchen. Back when we were together, I was a totally different man, one who loved the newfound trappings of wealth and fame. A private chef and exclusive meals at top restaurants were my staples. Now, I try to cook whenever I get a chance.
I’d love to learn to truly cook, and if I left the sport, it’s one more thing I could explore. The offer of consulting for the electric car race circuit weighs on my mind as I begin peeling the apples for the pancake. The owner of the circuit emailed me again today, and I spent most of the flight to Canada trying to decide what to respond. Part of me wants to tell Lucas, knows I need to, sooner or later. He’s been by my side for a decade. But I don’t want to say anything until I decide.
In the end, I consulted with my agent. We decided to hedge yet again, saying I wanted to get through the next couple of races before making any concrete decisions. My agent thinks it’s a once in a lifetime opportunity to change an industry.
