Power to the Max (Max Starr, #4)

“That’s doesn’t describe the detective at all.”


God, she should know better than to have these internal arguments with herself when Cameron could eavesdrop. “He’s a man. Ergo, he’s got a big ego.”

“He’s got something big all right and you want it badly, Max.”

“He hasn’t got a thing I want.”

“You want him to fuck you.”

“He already has, Cameron. It wasn’t that great.” It was stupendous. And scary as hell.

“I heard that. You loved it. You’re dying for him to do you again. But you’re on the run again, sweetheart. Stop fighting what you really want.”

Max removed her blazer and threw it across the wooden chair in the corner. “It’s late. I’m tired. I don’t want to fight with you.”

“You’re in the perfect mood for a fight. It’s what you do best.”

Her tie, blouse, and slacks went the way of the blazer, the tie slipping off the chair seat to the floor. “What bug got up your butt, Cameron?”

“I’m horny.”

She laughed. “You’re a ghost. You don’t get horny.” Max climbed into bed without removing her panties and bra.

“I can smell how hot you are,” he whispered.

Her panties grew moist. She rolled over to face the window and pulled her knees to her chest, clamping her legs to try to hide the evidence. “I’m going to sleep now.”

“You can’t sleep. You’re dying to get fucked.”

“Why are you doing this now?”

The bed dipped as he crawled in behind her. A warm body against her back, a hard cock pressed to the seam of her butt. She knew it was her imagination, but in the dark, her lids closed, barring reality, Max could actually feel him. It had been this way since he died. She could make him real, corporeal, as long as she kept her eyes closed. When she opened them, the sensation of his limbs twined with hers would disappear. Poof. Gone. All she had to do was open her eyes.

That, Max couldn’t do. Not right now. No matter how much she tried to tell herself to do so.

“Beg me, Max. Tell me how badly you want my cock deep inside you.”

“You sound like Witt.”

“Pretend I am Witt.”

God, she ached. She fought Witt every step of the way, maybe because she had Cameron to come to her in the night and give her what she couldn’t willingly accept from Witt.

A hand slipped inside her panties, delved between her legs to that sweet hot spot. Her clitoris. He stroked in all her heat and wetness. She unfurled her legs, granting him greater access.

“You love sex. Why do you fight it? Just take it, baby, take it all.”

She bit her lip to hold back a moan.

“This is what you want from him. Every night. His fingers in you. His tongue working you over. Admit it.”

The work shifted and a tongue played her clitoris, sucking and licking until she knew she’d lost her mind. He entered her from behind, pulling her leg over his for a deeper penetration. Witt’s aftershave swirled around her and in the dark, his size and breadth filled her. He rocked against her butt, driving deeper, higher.

“It’s not him,” she whispered.

A big warm hand cupped her breast, squeezing the tight bud of her nipple. Cameron’s hands were never that big.

“It’s me.” Witt’s voice rumbled against her ear.

“Don’t do this, Cameron.”

He pushed her forward onto her stomach and rose above her, holding her legs wide as he pumped. He was so good, so heavy, so big. So like Witt.

“You want me to make love to you, Max. I know you do. Admit, how badly you want it.”

“I don’t,” but she couldn’t hold back the moan that followed. “All I have to do is open my eyes, and you’ll be gone.”

“Then do it. See if you can.”

She couldn’t. Her eyes seemed glued shut. She couldn’t give this up. He pushed a hand beneath her and stroked her clit again, a rough rub as if it were Witt’s slightly callused fingers touching her.

“Stop it, Cameron. Please be yourself. Don’t be him.”

“It’s your fantasy, Max.” That voice. Witt’s voice. Seducing her. “You can change it any time you want.”

She couldn’t dispel the image or the feel of Witt. She couldn’t find Cameron in the darkness. He wrapped his arm around her belly, held her tight as he rammed into her. Oh God, oh God. Lights swirled and showered behind her lids. She was so close, almost there.

He hit high and stopped. She almost screamed her need aloud.

“Say it.”

“Please don’t stop.”

He rotated his hips. “Say it.”

She panted. Her fingers twitched, trying to find her clitoris for that shining relief. But he held her back with one of his big hands.

“Say it.”

“Fuck me.”

He gave a quick pump, pushing her further out on that orgasmic ledge, but not quite over.

“Say what you really want.”

“Make love to me. Please.” Tears of need squeezed past her lids.

“What’s my name? Say my name.”

She wriggled, trying to force him to move.

“Say it, Max.”