Chapter 7: Our Thing: Chapter 7

I’m writing notes for Aurora’s wedding when I hear a soft tapping at my window. My eyes dart to the clock. It’s nearly midnight. I slide off the mattress, walk around the bed, and sweep my curtains aside. Max stares at me from the other side of the glass. I frown at him.

I mouth, ‘You’re a jerk.’

He scowls at me and mouths, ‘Open the window.’

I sit on the ledge and brush my hair over one shoulder, feeling strangely empowered. ‘What do you want?’

His eyes turn into slits. Big biceps flex as his grip tightens on the lattice he’s perched on. ‘Open the fucking window.’

I slide the window open and step back. He pushes the screen in and jumps over the sill, his presence filling the room. He isn’t wearing a suit anymore; he’s looking casual – his age – in faded jeans and a black V-neck tee-shirt.

He peers around as if he’s looking for something or someone and then fixes his eyes on me. I take another step back when he tries to close the gap between us. He halts when he notices my trepidation.

His brows tighten. ‘I was a dick to you, and I don’t like the way it’s making me feel. I’m sorry.’

My fingers find the hem of my pyjama shorts, fiddling with them. ‘You embarrassed me.’

‘I know.’

Unable to think with him so close, I step back, but he steps towards me again. ‘Stop it.’ I hug myself because I’m not wearing a bra; I’m half naked and he’s fully dressed. My hands fumble around my body, adjusting my singlet and shorts, before covering my exposed midriff.

‘Cassidy.’ The word purrs from his lips and it’s the first time I’ve heard him say my actual name. ‘Little one, I was a dick. I overreacted. I’m sorry.’

I continue to hug my waist, unable to make eye contact with him. I’m no longer feeling in control. He moves until there isn’t any space between us, and I breathe out in a rush at the heat of his body. I stare straight ahead at the black shirt that covers his chest.

Big warm palms enclose the crook of my neck and his thumbs caress my jawline. I gasp and close my eyes, drawing in big breaths. Time lapses.

With his thumb to my chin, he tilts my head. ‘Open your eyes, little one.’

I open my eyes and peer nervously up at him.

Oh my God.

His eyes narrow as he studies my expression. I glance down and try to collect myself for just a moment, but when his thumb moves to my mouth, I can’t help but look back up. He traces the swell of my lower lip, folding it down to expose the pinkness inside. My heart begins to thunder against my ribcage. Yearning and fear both heat my skin. He tastes so good, like salt and man and him. Sliding my tongue out, I lick the tip of his thumb. He clenches his jaw, so I wrap my mouth around his thick pad and suck on it. A quiet groan escapes him, and he pushes his thumb between my teeth and into the hot depth of my mouth, moving it possessively inside me.

‘Fuck,’ he says through clenched teeth.

All I can manage to say with his finger in my mouth is his name. ‘Max.’

His thumb pops out and he cups my cheeks with both hands. “What do you want?”

My cheeks heat beneath his palms. ‘You know what I want.’

‘I’m not monogamous. You know that right?’

I swallow pass the flashing image of Max and the pretty redhead and I disregard the monster inside me that screams my true discomfort. ‘Yes.’

‘I need to hear you say it.’ His thumb strokes my cheek. ‘Say, I understand this is just sex.’

‘I understand this is just sex.’

‘You can’t expect anything more from me. I won’t be giving it to you.’

‘I know,’ I whisper.

When his hands start moving around my neck, my head rolls and my breathing speeds up. I close my eyes and moan a little, the sensation both relaxing and arousing.

‘What have you done with other guys?’

My eyes open, but I don’t look at him. ‘Nothing.’

‘Nothing?’

I look up. His eyes are smouldering. ‘Max, nothing. I’ve done nothing. I’ve made out with boys, that’s all.’

A slow grin spreads across his lips. ‘What do you do to yourself?’

I cover my face with my palms. The silence between us thickens like glue, pulling us together.

‘Answer the question,’ he orders, pulling my hands down and putting them on his hard chest.

My fingers flex over the fabric of his shirt, which does little to soften the feel of his muscles beneath. ‘I um,’ I stammer. ‘I touch myself, a little.’

‘Do you put your fingers inside your pussy?’

I laugh nervously. ‘Oh my God, you really do need a warning label.’

‘Do you?’ he repeats.

‘No,’ I say breathily. ‘I just. . . play with my clit a little.’

He grabs the collar of his shirt and pulls it over his head before pressing my palms back to his chest. Naked. Warm. ‘Can you make yourself come?’

‘Yes.’ I drag my fingertips down the ridges of his abdomen. ‘Sometimes.’

He walks me backwards and lifts me onto my chest of drawers. ‘Do you think about me while you touch yourself?’

We are eye to eye now. His lips are so close to mine, I can feel the heat from his breath. ‘Yes.’

‘What do you imagine me doing?’

My hands tremor against his perfect abdominals. ‘You’re inside me.’

He leans in. Lips meet my ear. ‘Which part of me?’

My head dips back slightly as I moan. ‘Your tongue.’

He breaths out fast and presses his forehead to mine. ‘Do you want me to fuck you with my tongue, little one?’

Oh God. That is such a great question.

My jaw trembles as I nod. And I’m so tightly wound, I may explode.

When his nose touches mine, my eyes close. His mouth wraps around my top lip and I’m humming as he tugs on it. And then he kisses me deeply, our hot, needy breaths mingling. He feeds a hand through my hair and another around my waist, pressing my body against his. My knees part to welcome his breadth.

I’m kissing Max Butcher!

I try to stay out of my head, but I’m so conscious of the kiss, wanting it to be good for him, wanting my lips to be soft and skilled like his are. I caress my fingers up his back, making his muscles contract. His tongue caresses mine, and our lips massage and pet each other. It’s completely beautiful. He smells like man and whiskey and a scent that is all his own. The small hairs on his cheeks and chin brush against my face. As his lips move down to my chin, my neck, and back up again, they paint a hot trail of friction.

His lips never leave mine as he lifts me up and walks me over to the bed. He crawls on with me wrapped around his torso. He leans on one elbow, putting only a tiny part of his weight on me, but it’s the part between his legs, the part that is hard as a rock and pressed into my thigh. His fingers glide up my belly and under my single. My stomach trembles.

He breaks our kiss. ‘What’s this?’ He tickles my upper abdomen, making me giggle.

Cool air rushes between us when he leans to the side and lifts my singlet off over my head. As he stares down at my stomach, I cover my face again, grinning into my palms.

‘Is this a little four-pack I see here?’ he says. ‘Little one, you’re toned.’

‘I’m a ballerina,’ I mumble into my hands.

He pulls my hands from my face again. ‘Don’t hide from me.’

I stare straight into his blue-grey eyes and swallow uneasily. ‘But I have no tits.’

His brows draw together and he cups my breast, his fingers teasing my nipple. I bite my bottom lip to stifle a moan, my nipples becoming painfully hard. He buries his head between my breasts and begins to lick and suck and squeeze. The skin on my chest muffles his groan as he rubs his erection into my thigh.

He sits up abruptly. ‘I’ve got to get these off.’ He unbuttons his jeans and kicks them onto the floor before moving straight back to my nipple. This time I can feel the whole tense ridge of his penis rubbing against me through his boxers. I breathe in and out fast. Suck suck blow.

My nipple pops from his mouth and he leans up to watch my expression. His hand slides down my trembling belly, into my shorts, and between my legs. I’m relieved I waxed yesterday. He watches as my eyes close. His fingers stroke the valley between my lips. I’m wet. I’m really wet. His fingers slide around and when he parts me, my mouth opens. Suck suck blow. He presses down on my clit, causing me to whimper.

He inches a finger inside me and then stops. ‘Fuck.’ His voice is deep. ‘You’re so tight. I think my cock should have the honour of stretching you open.’

My eyes widen when I feel the bed dip. As he crawls down my body, I tremble from each kiss he leaves in his wake. By the time he’s pulling my shorts off and pushing my knees up, I’m already on the edge. He nestles his shoulders between my legs.

The back of my head hits the pillow as he kisses from my knee to the inner flesh of my quivering thigh.

‘You’ve got fucking amazing legs.’

I feel the cool air and my cheeks instantly flush, knowing he’s looking at me – open to him. Then his thumb begins to stroke me worshipfully, exploring my lips and clit. I let out a slow, longing moan. And as I do, his tongue dips and that beautiful friction from his cheeks and chin rub on the most sensitive parts of me. I dig my fingers into the pillow on either side of my head. A soft whimper leaves my mouth. God, he knows what he’s doing.

He hums when my hips thrust up on their own accord. I can’t stop them. As his tongue starts to lap with more purpose, his lips devouring me, I become completely undone. Unravelled. His hand slides under my backside and when his fingers skate around my bum-hole, I let them. Like them, even. Nothing is off limits to Max Butcher.

My belly button and toes tingle.

My knees and thighs quiver.

He takes his time with me, but when the tide of my orgasm rushes up my legs, my clit buzzing against his tongue, he abruptly stops and blows on my skin.

‘Max,’ I plead.

‘Ask me to make you come.’ There’s amusement in his voice.

I groan. ‘Make me come, Max.’

He chuckles. ‘Say please, little one.’

‘Please make me come, Max.’

He rubs the rough of his chin between my lips, creating an intense feeling I don’t want to stop. And then his mouth is on my clit. His fingers are pushing back the hood and it’s too overwhelming. Consuming.

I whimper. ‘Max.‘

I feed my hands through his hair, rubbing myself along his face. His skilled mouth inches the tide back up. And then away. And then up some more. My knees try to close around his head, but he doesn’t stop the repetitive stimulation. My clit begins to throb with sensitivity.

I cry out. Ripping the pillow out from under me, I shove it over my face to mute the sound of my orgasm. My cries only intensify as he licks me through my climax, wringing it out of me with every lap of his tongue.

After several seconds, the mattress moves again. When I finally pull the pillow away, it’s to see Max staring at me.

‘You okay?’

I want to cover my face, but I don’t. ‘Yep.’ My giggle makes him smile, and it reaches every part of his face, drawing me to that darn dimple of his. I really like him like this – playful and relaxed. We share a sweet, contented moment.

‘Did I . . . ‘ I roll my eyes. ‘Did I taste okay?’

‘You taste fucking amazing.’

My skin is still humming when I hear a knock at the door. Max jumps up and pulls his jeans on, while I fumble around, searching for my pyjamas.

‘Cassidy, you okay, baby?’

Mum.

We freeze. I almost answer her, but Max holds his hand up to silence me.

I stare at him, wide-eyed, and tilt my head.

‘Cassidy?’

He grabs his clothes and swings out of the window, climbing down the lattice.

The door slowly opens. My mum creeps cautiously in, relaxing when she sees me up and awake. ‘Are you okay, my love? I heard you cry out. I thought maybe you had a bad dream.’