Home > The Shape of My Heart (2B Trilogy #3)(36)

The Shape of My Heart (2B Trilogy #3)(36)
Author: Ann Aguirre

His lips were all heat and sweetness, turning over mine with compulsive yearning. Max tangled his hands in my hair and drew me closer as I teased his lower lip with my tongue. He responded with a graze of teeth, then he deepened the kiss, melting my bones with his intensity. We kissed forever, and I couldn’t get close enough. He pulled me against him hard and fell back in the same motion so I landed on top of him. Max made an approving noise in the back of his throat as he cupped my ass.

“God, yeah,” he groaned.

The raw longing in his tone went straight to my pussy. Just from kissing I was already wet, and my head was spinning. “...Angus...Kia?”

“Fuck.” Shuddering, he sat up, arms still around my back. “He’s in his room. I almost threw down with him earlier. And she’ll probably be home soon.”

“Why are you fighting with Angus?” I asked, breathless.

He kissed my forehead softly. “Because of you.”

“That doesn’t even—”

“He was nagging me about the dishes. I said I didn’t feel like it. Angus goes, ‘Christ, just fuck her already, get it out of your system.’ Not sure if he realized he was talking about you, but I almost took his head off.”

“Oh. Well, you can apologize tomorrow. And do the dishes.” My pulse might be slowing, but I was still incredibly turned on.

“You want to relocate?” He ran his hands over my hips, shifting me against him.

So fucking hard. I couldn’t resist moving once, twice. “You trying to get me alone in your room?”

Max hissed in reaction, tipping his head back. “Damn right.”

With a nervous smile, I rolled off the couch and followed him down the hall. By necessity, I stayed close since he didn’t let go of my hand until the door shut behind us. Then he locked it for good measure like somebody might barge in at this hour. Actually, that wasn’t impossible since Angus occasionally forgot that some people slept more than he did.

I’d hung out in Max’s room before, but everything was different now. As he hurried around picking up laundry off the floor, I sat down on the bed. The street lights outside offered enough illumination for me to take in the wondering pleasure in his eyes each time he glanced my way. My smile widened.

“Are you laughing at me?”

“Maybe a little.”

“You’d think that would discourage me somewhat...” He dropped his gaze to the hard ridge straining against his jeans.

“Turns out, no?”

“I don’t know when it happened. Which sounds stupid, because I should’ve seen it sooner. But...I ache for you.” Max paused, then hastened to add, “We don’t have to do anything. I just... I want to hold you. I fucking miss waking up with you. Miss the smell of you on my sheets.” He fidgeted by the window, and it struck me like a hammer.

Holy shit. He’s nervous.

His worries put mine to rest. Smiling, I beckoned, leaning back on his bed. “Come here. You can stop talking.”

“I don’t know if I should. You still haven’t told me how you feel. I’ll be crushed if you’re using me for sex.” Though his words were playful, his expression wasn’t, and that was Max. Effervescent on the surface, deep as an artesian spring beneath.

“I’m not. I wouldn’t. To be completely honest, I noticed...this—” I gestured at Max “—before we got back from Providence.”

His eyes widened, evident even in the half-light. “I wish you’d said something.”

Startled laughter bubbled out of me. “No thanks. If you didn’t feel it, too, it would’ve been awkward. And humiliating. I’ve heard the friend-zone speech enough to be positive I couldn’t stand getting it from you.”

“There were times when I did,” he admitted. “But I thought it was just...you know. A guy and a girl in close quarters. It’d be weirder if I didn’t occasionally get turned on.”

“You just didn’t think it was personal.” That hurt more, actually.

The incidental boner. It’s not you, Courtney.

“Don’t look like that, please. You know I’m kind of an idiot.”

I managed a shaky smile. “Yeah.”

With a soft sigh, Max turned away to stare out the window. “The last night—when you rubbed my head—you got me so hot, I couldn’t sleep, Courtney. And trust me, I was very aware who was making me feel that way by then. After we got home, I kept obsessing on how fucking good it felt when you put your hands on me.”

“So the logical step when you want someone is to offer to find them a date?” I muttered the question beneath my breath but Max heard it.

He finally came over to the bed and sat down beside me. “It was for me. Remember how I said I just wanted you to be happy? That wasn’t a line.”

“Maybe you could take a shot at it?”

Max kissed me in a series of sexy little forays, never deep enough to sate the heat building between my thighs. Before I fell into him completely, he backed off, dusting kisses over my throat. The room tilted and I landed on my side with Max beside me. He slid an arm around me, his body half over mine. I dug my fingers into his back and shoulders, working lower until I could grab his ass and pull him against me.

“Tell me where the lines are tonight,” he whispered, kissing my lower lip.

“Let me think.”

He was so handsome I couldn’t stand it. I cupped his face in my hands and brushed my mouth against his forehead, temples, nose and chin. Though I didn’t intend to tease, he followed my mouth with his, trying to tempt me to a deeper kiss. I evaded with a teasing half smile, working my fingers through his hair to rub his head. This turned you on, huh? I recalled how he rolled over on his stomach when I went to the bathroom, imagined how he must’ve rubbed his cock against the mattress wishing I’d touch it.

“I’d probably kill somebody to find out what’s making you look like that.”

Instead of answering right off I kissed him—a deep, hot whirlwind of a kiss that left us both breathless. “I was just thinking about the last night on the way home from Providence.”

“Yeah?” He was distracted, hands slipping under my shirt to explore the soft skin of my belly. I cooperated as he pulled the cotton over my head. Wish I was wearing better underwear. But he didn’t seem to mind the sports bra I had on. His gaze fixed on the modest swell of my breasts, topped by visibly hard nipples, and he licked his lips.

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