Maxie (Triple X) (13 page)

He was. He didn’t know if he could stop touching her.

He decided to give her skin, but only a little.

Sneaking his hand under her T-shirt, he flipped it up enough to get at her panties. They weren’t the pink ones anymore. He’d seen what she’d surreptitiously taken from the dresser drawer. This pair was white, the color of purity, but they made him harder than the pistol he carried for his job.

They both groaned when he pushed his hand inside, stretching the fabric. He stroked his fingers over her, parting her and sliding intimately along her slick, hot grooves. She clutched his back as he rubbed a particularly sensitive spot and her neck arched hard. This pair of panties might not be sopping, but she was wet underneath them. She twisted, and her hair tumbled in a wild waterfall across the pillows.

“Skin,” she begged again.

He left the T-shirt where it was, covering her fully except for where his hand had found access. Her breasts strained against the cotton, her nipples tenting the fabric. He spread his hand wider over her mound, cupping her boldly. Contrasted to the places where their bodies weren’t allowed contact, the feel was starkly intimate, almost unbearably hot.

“Ahhh!” she cried.

She was burning against his hand. He dipped his fingers into her wetness to give them both some relief. She was more than damp now. Changing those panties hadn’t done much good.

He let his fingers play as he settled down over her, giving himself free rein. He’d wanted her for a long time, but this was better than he’d even dreamed.

He tripped her clit, and she bucked so hard she nearly rolled him onto his back. He used his weight to keep her down and did it again. Her moan filled the expansive room. Upping the ante, he stroked her opening and felt her shudder. God, she was responsive. In this, she wasn’t timid at all.

He kept at her until she was a trembling, groaning mess of hot, sultry woman beneath him. Only then did he press inside her, using two fingers instead of one. She was so slippery he knew she could take it, but so tight he was the one who almost lost it.

She kissed him this time, the contact almost a punch. There was no difference deep in his gut. He began to plunge his fingers into her. Plunge and retreat, plunge and retreat. Her hand dove between his legs, and the top of his skull nearly blew clean off when she cupped him back.

Her hand was small and delicate but strong and possessive. Instinct took over, and he started moving his hips against that intimate touch.

Skin.

Now he knew how she felt. He wanted his damn shorts off. He wanted her hands on him and his hands on her. Her T-shirt was driving him insane. He wanted her breasts against his chest, her belly pressed tight against his, but this felt
so good
. With their skin-to-skin contact limited to one erogenous zone, it focused everything to a fine, razor point.

She began to tremble from head to toe. Breathing hard, Zac watched her. He moved his hand faster, harder, and she rode his rhythm almost frantically. He kept his touch on the pulse of her arousal, circling her clit and rolling it under the pad of his thumb. When he thrust his fingers deep inside her and let them curl, she came unglued.

“Zac!” Her entire body went taut, the leg around his waist locking tight.

He worked his fingers in again and left them deep, rubbing the walls of her tight, slick vagina. He knew when he found the place because those walls began to quake, her inner muscles clenching in ever-quickening spasms.

When she came, it was hard and consuming. He let his fingers ride her through it. She rolled her head on the pillow, and her cry was sharp before he captured it with his mouth.

She let the orgasm take her, surrendering to it with her pussy pressed solidly against his palm. Zac was strung tight as a bow as he led her gently down. She sagged onto the bed underneath them, and the possessive hold she’d had on his butt slipped off. Her arm flopped to the mattress.

“My turn,” he said gruffly.

He leaned over her for another kiss. He was wound so tight, it wouldn’t take much to set him off. He rocked his hips against hers and plumped her breast high, but hesitated when something felt off.

She wasn’t responding to him anymore. He pulled back to look at her. Her lips were slack, and her body was heavy.

Concern rushed through him, followed by confusion.

And then disbelief.

Was she asleep?

She lay beneath him, primly covered by the T-shirt except where it was hitched up around his wrist. Her mouth was lax, and the lines of stress on her forehead were gone. Her lashes fanned across her cheeks as her chest rose and fell with each breath.

As mind-boggling as it was, she was out like a light.

He didn’t try to stop his groan. Was she kidding him? He was so close, and she was still holding on to his cock. Another single pass of her fingers would set him off. His shoulders clenched and his hand tightened possessively on her soft pussy. He could wake her back up. He knew how to get those pretty brown eyes to snap open.

But that wasn’t who he was, and it wasn’t why he was here.

He’d been trying to get her to relax, to stop thinking, hadn’t he?

A rough laugh escaped him. Boy, he’d done a bang-up job of that.

Gritting his teeth, he carefully disengaged his hand and then her leg from the small of his back. A bang-up job, yesiree. He pulled her T-shirt back down to cover her, smoothing it over the tops of her thighs.

Son of a bitch.

He edged away from her but was walking funny as he headed to the bathroom. She wasn’t the only one who needed a shower. He was hot and sticky. He adjusted his shorts. Definitely sticky. He needed a cool, soapy, shower.

Preferably the one-handed kind.

What
was she supposed to do?

Maxie stared at the ceiling, watching the dim light in the room grow brighter. It was early, predawn, but she’d woken up from a dead slumber. For a moment, the briefest slip of time, she’d thought she’d dreamt everything. Identical sisters, skinny-dipping, getting hot and heavy with the sheriff…

Until she’d felt a weight across her stomach.

Now her brain was racing a mile a minute as she tried to figure out the best way to handle her situation.

And it was a
situation
.

The weight was Zac’s arm. He was sleeping on his side with his arm stretched over her. Now that she’d fully regained her faculties, she could feel his breath stirring her hair and his knee pressing against the side of her thigh. Which was bare. Her sleep shirt was hitched up to her waist, and at some point during the night the covers had gotten pushed off entirely.

Her face warmed. She knew when those covers had been dislodged, and she knew how her clothes had gotten disheveled. She was lucky to have them on at all. Thanks to Zac. If she’d gotten her way, she would have been waking up buck naked.

With him in the same state.

She glanced at him, afraid to move her head. He was still sleeping, his weight heavy and warm beside her. As nervous as she was about dealing with him, her thoughts got stuck on one thing.

Yum.

Oh damn. Her gaze traveled down his bare chest and ripped abs. No wonder he looked so good in his uniform. He looked even better out of it. The man was built. His shoulders were wide, and his waist was trim. His muscles were lean and defined, making all kinds of interesting pathways that her mouth wanted to follow. Her fingers curled, and she couldn’t help but rub her thigh against his knee.

She flinched when his breath hitched.

That one little sound reminded her that it wasn’t last night. She wasn’t caught up in the heat of the moment. The scorching, exciting heat. With the morning sun putting a glaring stamp on things, her natural tendencies had returned. That was a sleeping lion next to her, and she was timid, mousy Maxie. She might have done some crazy things, but he could eat her for lunch.

He might want to, after what she’d done.

She stared at the ceiling again, her pulse rate quickening and her body going tight. Her memories of the night before were crystal clear. As much as she wanted to blame her actions on the bourbon, she couldn’t. She’d known what she was doing, and she hadn’t been able to hold herself back.

She also hadn’t been able to stay awake once all that excitement and anxiety had crested.

Oh God. Had she really fallen asleep on him during sex? Well, after… But before…

She squeezed her eyes shut in embarrassment. The gears in her brain ground hard, but she couldn’t remember anything after coming apart at the seams. She’d never experienced anything like the climax he’d given her, and they hadn’t even gotten to the part where he…

Mortification settled over her. She’d fantasized about being like this with Zac Ford, and it had been even better than her daydreams. She’d been impulsive and free.

But she was pretty sure she’d conked out on him.

How could she have done that? How did a woman fall asleep with the hunkiest guy
ever
kissing her and touching her? Was she insane? Did she have a trip switch in her brain that wouldn’t allow too much stimulation? After all, she’d fainted yesterday morning.

His hand flexed against her bare stomach, and Maxie nearly bolted out of the bed before she stopped herself.

Heaven help her.

She had to get out of this bed now, without waking him. She couldn’t face him yet. What was she supposed to say? How could she apologize? He hadn’t gotten to— And not because she hadn’t been willing to—

That invisible hand that usually kept her from getting into predicaments like this was yanking at her. Trying to go slowly, she considered how their bodies were tangled together. The contact at his knee was easiest to fix. She pulled her leg away in increments. He didn’t stir.

She reached for his hand. Everything inside her was on high alert as she wrapped her fingers around his wrist. The slightest jarring or the softest sound could wake him. His arm was unresponsive as she lifted it from her stomach. As if she were handling a grenade, she moved his hand to rest on his hip. The seconds ticked off in her ears. She waited for that arm to come alive, for a breath to expand his chest and alertness to kick him into gear.

Her fingers shook as she let go of him.

For a moment, she thought she’d pulled it off, but she watched in horror as his limp arm slid off his hipbone. It fell behind him, and he harrumphed in his sleep. She let out a startled squeak when the whole bed shifted as he moved.

Instead of reaching for her, though, he rolled onto his back.

Maxie was already heading in the other direction. That invisible hand wrenched her from the bed and onto her feet. Her heart was going a thousand beats per minute as she waited for him to wake.

He was going to point at her, be angry and hurt. She couldn’t bear it, not after everything he’d done for her.

Her breath rasped like a saw against wood. When he settled down, she risked a glance at the door. Could she make it? Could she escape without him noticing?

It wouldn’t solve anything, but it would give her time to organize her thoughts and figure out a way to apologize. She blushed. She knew the best way she could apologize, but the sun was now shooting through the window in bright beams.

Timid Maxie was firmly back in control.

She tiptoed towards the door. She watched him every step of the way, and it made the trek even more difficult. He really was mouthwatering lying there. She was an idiot for sneaking away, but she’d already ventured beyond her comfort zone. The handle clicked when she turned it. She peeked at Zac, but he was a sound sleeper. She slipped into the hallway and, just as carefully, closed the door behind her.

It was only then that she realized she hadn’t grabbed any clothes.

She squeezed her hands into fists. Oh well, when fleeing a fire, one was supposed to leave all belongings behind. Maybe there was something she could wear in the laundry room.

Her knees were wobbly as she started down the staircase. It was creakier than the flooring in her bedroom. She tried to ease her weight down onto each step until the need to rush overwhelmed her. She scurried down the last few and took a breath of relief.

Coffee. The scent brought her chin up with a snap. Zac wasn’t the only visitor she had in the house.

Darn it. She raked her hands through her hair and smoothed her oversized sleep shirt down to her knees. She wasn’t used to having a full house, especially of people she hardly knew.

Going back into stealth mode, she hurried to the laundry room. She nearly stomped her foot when she discovered it empty. She’d done laundry the other night. Everything was upstairs and put away.

It left her with another dilemma. Should she go back upstairs to try to spirit out some clothes, or should she face her guests in her pajamas?

It was an easy decision.

Pushing her hair over her shoulder, she headed to the kitchen. She wasn’t quite sure how to act around either Roxie or Lexie now. She’d tiptoed around them last night before jumping in with both feet. Literally. What would they expect out of her today?