Taming Lily (The Fowler Sisters #3)(52)

I can’t stand the thought of him being with any other women, which is crazy. Why do I care? I’ve been with plenty of men—not something I’m proud of, but I can’t deny it since pretty much every guy I’ve been with is documented via social media. But you don’t hear me talk about them. Don’t hear me bragging about my many conquests.

God, I’m jealous. A completely foreign emotion I rarely feel, at least when it comes to men.

The breeze blows over me, cooling my heated flesh, and I close my eyes, popping them back open when Max’s hands squeeze my butt. “I bought more condoms,” he says.

I breathe out a sigh of relief. “Thank God.”

He leans in close as he pulls me even closer, until I’m tumbling back into his lap and his face is in mine. “You’re not mad at me, are you,” he murmurs just before he claims my mouth.

I open wide for him, our tongues thrusting, the unmistakable musky taste of my * making me even hotter. He has no shame, this man, and neither do I. He’s rough and a little mean and a lot sexy and I can’t get enough. There’s a connection between us I don’t want to fight. I like him. I want to spend more time with him, learn more about him.

The idea scares me.

His hands clamp around my waist and pull me down so I’m grinding my naked * on his clothed erection. He’s huge and hot, thick and long, and I rub against him shamelessly, whimpering into his mouth, increasing my pace.

“You getting off, baby?”

No need to answer because the orgasm hits me at full blast right at that very moment. I cry out, circling my arms around his neck as I cling to him, my hips working against his cock, loving the friction his swim trunks give me as I come all over him.

I can’t even care if I went against his rules. I’m limp in his arms, shivering and shaking, and he’s looking at me like he wants to both hug me close and shove me away.

“You disobeyed me,” he whispers, reaching out to trail his fingers across my cheek.

My eyes slide closed at his gentle touch and I tip my head back. My legs are wound tight around his waist and I bury my hands in his hair. “Sorry.” I don’t sound remorseful because I’m not. That was absolute torture and I needed the relief.

His other hand goes to my neck and he grips my nape, forcing me to face him once more. “It’s like you can’t help but be a bad girl.”

I smile, my heart aching at his words. “Haven’t you realized that’s what you’re dealing with? I am a bad girl. I do what I want, when I want. No one can tell me what to do.” Pausing, I let my gaze roam over his handsome features, seeing the familiar disappointment in his eyes. Typical. I make no one happy. “Not even you,” I add in the softest whisper.

He stares at me, his gaze unwavering. There’s no disappointment in his eyes; he doesn’t appear upset any longer. “Aren’t you tired of being alone? On your own? You against the world, always fighting, always struggling?”

I want to say no. It’s easier to pretend I’m tough and I don’t need anyone, definitely not a man trying to tell me what to do. But Max isn’t like that, not really. He treats me like an equal. That he enjoys taking command in the bedroom doesn’t bother me, not really.

I almost … prefer it.

“Yes,” I finally whisper, my throat raw with emotion. “It’s … hard, being alone.”

“I know.” He reaches out, drifts his fingers across my cheek. “I agree.”

Should I say something more? Tell him we don’t have to be alone as long as we have each other?

No, that’s too much. Too soon. He’ll freak. Or worse, make fun of me. Make a joke of it.

He would never do that and you know it.

“Let’s take a step back and calm down.” Max traces my jaw with his fingers, his thumb smoothing over my chin. “After all, we’ve got all night.”

There’s a finality to his statement that sends panic racing through my veins. All night isn’t enough. It would never be enough. But I can’t admit that.

So I don’t.

Chapter eighteen

Max

I TOOK HER TO DINNER, to torture myself and to give us some much needed distance. My irrational anger at her getting herself off by humping my dick while I had my swim trunks on still simmered low in my gut, which was ridiculous. But I didn’t like how she defied me, how she did what she wanted despite my telling her not to.

It was the first time she’d done that since we’d started playing this sick game and it made me mad. Made me feel out of control. I didn’t like it.

At all.

I really wanted to walk out on her and never look back, but I couldn’t. Not only because I flat-out can’t leave her, but I have a job to do and by God, I’m going to finish it. Plus, if I left her and gave back Pilar her f*cking money, that bitch would send some other dick after Lily instead and God knows what would happen. So I’m protecting her.

Yeah, keep telling yourself that, jackass.

The idea of not having this last moment with her hurts more than I care to admit. It was Lily’s idea to suggest a hands-off approach for tonight and like a dumbass, I agreed.

“No sex,” she’d said, her expression stony, her gaze steady. Though I saw the slight flicker in her eyes. She was probably afraid I’d tell her no and leave her. Like I could. “We only seem to piss each other off.”