“Your father needs to think about having it fixed, so his soldiers only shoot blanks,” I tell him, and my eyes are starting to grow heavy. The combination of multiple orgasms, crying, and the emotional talk with Max, combined with the warmth of his body is slowly dragging me toward sleep.
“Cherry is making him. We get settled out of the country; I’ll do it too. He reminded me recently we share the same DNA. That sure as hell can’t happen. We don’t need to take any more chances.”
My blood runs cool at his words. He’s right of course. I hadn’t even been thinking of that, and we’ve been going at it like rabbits. Max is always super careful though. He never takes me without protection. That’s a must for him. Every single time he makes sure he wears a condom. Except for that day one the beach.
“I need to go to sleep, Max. You’ve worn me out,” I murmur because I need to change the subject. I need to think about something else. Anything else.
“Sleep, Kitten. We have a lot of things to do to get ready and we leave in the next few weeks. I’m glad you’re going with me,” he answers.
“I am too…Night, Mad Max,” I whisper letting sleep claim me I try to shove my worry away. It was just one time, and it was nowhere near the right time of the month. I’m sure everything will be fine.
I’m sure…
28
Tess
Four more days. Four more days, and I will have officially skipped the border with Maxwell Kincaid. I’d ask myself what in the hell I’m thinking, but I know. Max is dark; there’s not a soft damn thing about him. If I made a list of pros and cons, there would be only one pro. I get more time with the man I love. The cons would be a mile long, but all of them together don’t equal what I’d have to gain. Four more days. With each day that passes, I’m surer of my decision. Unfortunately, that feeling of impending doom also increases. Tonight my panic is almost at the surface. I know Max can sense it. He keeps casting me these looks, and I keep trying to pretend I don’t see them.
“Aren’t you going to read your fortune?”
Max’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts. I try and drum up a smile for him. We’re sitting on the couch watching football, or rather Max is watching and eating Chinese takeout that Marcum had one of his crew bring by. I’m not a big fan, but Max likes it, so I’m dealing with it by having fried noodles. The stench from whatever cabbage crap Max is eating though is doing a number on my stomach. Stress and worry do nothing to increase my appetite. I hold out my hand for the cookie, and he drops it in my hand.
“Who’s first?”
“Considering the last fortune I read was the newspaper the day I met you, and it told me to go back to bed and not leave the house. I’ll let you go first.”
He shakes his head at me, but cracks open his cookie.
“Practice makes perfect,” he reads and looks over to me with a big smirk on his face. “You know what that means, Kitten.”
Just the look on his face is enough to make every feminine part inside of me clench and moan in response. “Down, Casanova, it’s only been an hour since our last workout.”
“I’m sorry, Kitten, I didn’t realize you required recovery time.”
“At least one of us does,” I respond shaking my head at his smile. He puts a kiss on the top of my head and gives me a half hug. “Okay, Kitten. Enough stalling, crack open that damn cookie!”
“Jesus, you’re like a kid! Are you like this at Christmas?”
“Worse, now quit stalling and show me what your damn fortune says!”
My hand trembles while I break the cookie apart. I don’t know why I would rather not read it. I just know I don’t want to. I pull out the small paper while holding my breath. Finally, I release with a quiet huff of air and read.
“It is easier to resist at the beginning than at the end.”
It’s just a cookie, but the words lay there between us. I look up at him, and he’s smiling.
“Look there, Kitten. Confucius is telling me to fuck your ass tonight.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s not what it was talking about,” I tell him, but I laugh as I’m sure he intended.
“Tomato, to-mat-toe,” he shrugs.
His hand slides against my neck and he pulls my lips to him.
“Max,” I half moan, half protest.
“Tess,” his brusque voice whispers back, then his sweet lips touch mine, barely touching mine at first though his tongue comes out to tease against mine.
Rinnnnnng.
The sharp shrill of the phone rings. We don’t answer it, for obvious reasons. There’s a procedure to be followed. I know Max and I both are holding our breath. The phone isn’t supposed to ring. The club uses Max’s burn phone. The only time the house phone is supposed to be used is if there is trouble. The phone rings a few times and then stops. Simultaneously, a cold sweat breaks out over my skin. I’m almost starting to breathe normally, and I know Max’s body starts to relax when the phone rings again. Shit.
I look at him, and he gives me silent encouragement. My hand shakes as I reach over to the phone. I clear my suddenly dry throat because it feels like my tongue is heavy, and I may choke on it.