Total pages in book: 21
Estimated words: 18896 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 94(@200wpm)___ 76(@250wpm)___ 63(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 18896 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 94(@200wpm)___ 76(@250wpm)___ 63(@300wpm)
She fought the inclination to flee and met his patient gaze. “I don’t want to hide from you.” Her words came out in a whisper and she realized she meant it.
Reservations be damned.
* * *
“Then don’t.” Max pulled the covers back, revealing their bare bodies to the cooler air, then reached over and turned on a bedside lamp. He wanted Brandy’s trust, wanted no secrets, no clothing, not even darkness between them. Physical intimacy was the only way he knew how to start.
The rest would have to come. They’d already made love once, and when they did again, there’d be no hiding.
For either of them.
He caressed her body with his gaze, following the slender lines and full curves, appreciation and more settling inside him. Then he watched as she did the same. She took in his body, her eyes widening as they traveled from his face, down to the erect cock he couldn’t hide.
“What do you want from me?” she asked softly, but he had a hunch she already knew because as she spoke, she slid backward, settling into the pillows behind her.
Her blonde hair fanned across the ivory sheets. His sheets. A primitive urge to possess her, to make her his again—this time forever—took hold. “I want everything, sweetheart. But I’ll take as much as you’re willing to give.”
He inched forward, making his way toward her. Her eyes lit with excitement and desire, diluted by an apprehension only time and trust could overcome.
She surprised him by extending her arms. “I want to make love to you, Max. Lights on, nothing hidden.”
Her vulnerability hit him hard where it counted most—his heart.
* * *
Brandy awoke feeling surprisingly relaxed after falling asleep without trouble for the first time in ages. Of course her late-night activity could have had something to do with that. So could her… lover.
Lover. She tested the word on her tongue, realizing it was too generic, too detached and indifferent, to describe their encounter. Whatever sexual moments she’d had in the past, no one had made it past the walls she’d built up since she’d been a child. How could any man have gotten inside her when she’d feared emotional closeness would result in unhealthy dependence? But Max had not only found her heart, she’d willingly let him in. And he’d admitted to wanting not just more but everything and a low level panic began to set in.
She sat up in bed, realizing she was alone. “Max?”
Noise from the shower in the bathroom alerted her to his location.
She was in Max’s bedroom while he showered for the day. Soon he’d come out—would he wrap a towel around his neck? His waist? Neither? Curling her legs beneath her, she forced deep breaths into her lungs. Whatever sharing a morning together entailed, it couldn’t be any more intimate than the night they’d just spent.
The ringing of Max’s cell from the other room startled her and she heard him say hello. “Stephan. Bad timing. I have a sexy elf in my bed and I want to get back to her.”
She cringed at the obvious admission that she’d spent the night in his bed while he was silent, obviously listening to his brother speak.
“Not going to kiss and tell,” he said.
More silence, and then, “All I can tell you is more than she’s ready for. And I want to see where this thing goes between us.”
Oh, God. She couldn’t breathe and needed to get out of here. Where were her clothes? She glanced around the room, desperate to find something to put on. All the while, her worries built. Relationships, reliance, trust, all scared her. She didn’t want her blessed independence shot to hell, all because she’d fallen for the wrong man. Where are my clothes, she wondered again.
Downstairs. Scattered around the poolroom. She rolled her eyes, realizing her life had taken on surreal proportions. Her gaze fell to a pile of clothes on the chair which obviously substituted for a laundry hamper or a closet. She grabbed a sweatshirt of his and put it on, the garment coming down to mid-thigh. A pair of his sweats came next. Then she turned to the desk and pilfered a sheet of paper.
“Max,” she wrote, feeling as if it were like a “Dear John” letter and hating herself for it. She finished her note, hoping what she said would be enough that he understood.
Her stomach clenching, she bolted for the door without looking back. She’d given herself one night with a special man. Now all she’d have were memories and her busy life. She refused to let herself dwell on what kind of emptiness that life would hold now that she’d known Max.
Chapter Five
Max looped a towel around his neck and headed out of the bathroom. He had to be at his parents’ house early but damned if he’d miss one minute of time he could spend with Brandy—who, he realized, was nowhere to be found.