Last on the List (Wait With Me #5)(64)

“Hey, if we’re going to be doing this on a semi-regular basis, then I have to ask…what’s with your eye contact thing?” My eyes narrow to see what his body language does.

He sighs heavily and pauses his pursuit of putting on his T-shirt. “Uh…no, I’m not going there.”

“Why not?” I ask, feeling offended.

“Because it’s personal.”

“What do you think what we just did was?” I snap, not willing to let this one go. If he can be a nosy asshole, so can I. He checks his phone for a moment, and I fear he’s going to leave without telling me, so I offer, “If I tell you mine, will you tell me yours?”

His eyes lift to mine, looking mildly intrigued. He clicks his tongue with a teasing smirk. “Depends how good yours is.”

I lick my lips and feel my cheeks heat.

“Shit, it is good,” he says with a dirty smirk and comes over to join me on the couch in all his shirtless, unbuckled jeans glory.

Honestly, the way his abdomen looks when he sits down is insane. His abs just sort of stack on top of each other and look good enough to eat. Though truthfully, Max would look just as hot with a dad bod.

“Come on, I’m waiting…” he pries, his eyes looking younger by the second.

I roll my eyes. “Fine, you want to know my kink?” I hesitate, chewing on my lip nervously as his eyes burn into me. “I’m intrigued by the idea of a little…light choking.”

Max’s eyes bulge. “Choking?”

“Not like…breath play, where you make me pass out and bring me back to life. Just like…” I grab his hand and hold it to my neck. His fingers curl around my flesh gently as he embraces me. “Just like…a claiming.”

He bites his lip and eyes me sensually. “What do you like about it?”

I shiver at his wicked tone. “Just the idea of a man’s masculine hand wrapped around the most tender part of a woman’s body. A neckline is very elegant, don’t you think?”

He releases my neck and nuzzles into me, sniffing deeply before pulling back and replying reverently, “Fuck yes.”

I smile, pleased at his reaction to my freaky side. “So the thought of you gripping it fiercely and trusting you’ll protect me…” I wet my lips and shudder. “It’s hot.”

His eyes heat with desire as he watches me for a moment, so I nudge him in the abs. “Now, come on, tell me yours, Mr. Eye Contact.”

He sighs dramatically and turns to face forward, slumping in the couch as he rubs his hand over his head. “Jessica never looked at me during sex.”

My brow furrows. “What?”

He looks defeated as he lays his head back on the couch and stares up at the ceiling. “Jess never made eye contact with me all the times we were intimate. It should have been a sign.”

“A sign that she was a lesbian?” I ask, filling in the blanks.

He shrugs. “Yeah.”

I take a moment to absorb that train of thought. Could there be any truth to it? I guess only Jessica would know that. My voice is thoughtful when I inquire, “So now you think any woman who doesn’t gaze into your stunning indigo eyes as you rock her fucking world could possibly be into women?”

“My eyes are blue,” he replies, avoiding the question.

“They are a lot more than blue, Max,” I respond seriously, and he turns to look at me with a vulnerability in his gaze that I’ve never seen before. I reach out and slide my fingertip over his furrowed brow line, and his eyes flutter closed as I skate my touch over his eyelids. “It depends on what you’re wearing, but sometimes they look dark purple…like when you’re by the pool. Everly’s manage to look bluer in the water, but yours pull something else. And I swear when you’re aroused…they darken to damn near navy.”

When he opens his eyes to look at me again, the roaring fire in the depths of them has my stomach doing an entire gymnastics routine.

My breath catches in my chest, and an idea comes to mind. “I want to try something,” I state, un-threading the sash on my robe while feeling his gaze on me. Swallowing the nervous knot in my throat, I tie the robe tie around my eyes.

“What are you doing?” His voice is a deep, husky rasp.

“Give me your hand,” I command, and when I feel his large warm palm against mine, I scootch down in my seat and lay my head on the back of the sofa.

Guiding him between my legs, I press his fingers against my center. A strangled grunt emits from him as he pushes one finger inside me.

“What do you feel?” I ask, my pelvis thrusting up to meet his finger as he pulls it out and swirls it around my clit.

“You’re wet as always.”

I smile knowingly. “I don’t have to look at you to know it’s you causing my body to react like this.”

He thrusts a second finger inside me, and I cry out at the invasion. I’m tender down there from our couch fuck, but the pain is delicious in some ways. Like scratching a bug bite you know you shouldn’t scratch.

“Just feeling your body heat, Max, and smelling that crazy hot cologne you wear is all I need to—”

Max has taken over now, his fingers thrusting quickly inside me as he shifts off the couch to the space between my legs. He pulls his fingers out to put my legs on his shoulders, and I cry out again when his whiskers brush against my inner thigh.