“I think your mom forgave him. I think your mom still even loves him in some way.”
He craned his neck and looked down at her. “No. Mama never mentions him. Why would you think that?”
She reached up and tangled her fingers in his hair. “Because he gave her you. And you were worth everything, Maximus Gray.”
Something flashed in his eyes—an emotion she never spotted before. A tenderness that spread over her like honey and melted every part of her body.
She pressed her mouth to his. With a low groan, he slid his tongue inside and thrust deep. She linked her ankle over his calf and shifted her weight. He stirred to life.
“Damn, one day you’re going to make someone a great husband.” The words popped out of her mouth and she cursed. “Ah, crap, you know what I mean. Don’t get your ego in a tangle. This is just about sex.”
“Thanks for reminding me of my use and purpose.” Her fingers drifted, wrapping around his penis and playing. He groaned and allowed her free access, until his erection throbbed in her hand and power pumped through her veins. “Baby, you’re killing me.”
She slid down his body, straddled him, and lowered her mouth. Then smiled. “Not yet, but I will.”
She took him fully in and closed her lips around his shaft. The scent and flavor of him urged her on, and she spent long minutes enjoying giving him pleasure. Harsh expletives shot from his mouth and made her even hotter. He reared up and grabbed her before she could protest. “Condom,” he hissed out. “Now.”
Carina fumbled but got it on in seconds. With one quick motion, he lifted her up and over.
He filled her and pushed every other thought out of her mind but how she could take more of him. Tilting her hips, she set the motion, until he couldn’t wait any longer and took control. She rode him in a furious frenzy until they both came apart together. She slumped over him in a big melty pool of satisfaction and wondered if she’d ever walk again. Or do anything again without thinking about Maximus Gray.
“Where the hell did you learn to do that?”
She tamped down a giggle at the cranky tone, though his body seemed happily satisfied. “I can’t. It’s too embarrassing.”
“We’re on orgasm number ten. We’re past embarrassing.”
“A banana.”
Instead of laughing, he waggled a brow. “Damn, that’s hot.”
Carina laughed with delight and realized she may just still be almost in love with Max.
Almost.
She bit down on the sudden surge of emotion. No, she’d never admit or express such words again, not since that night she’d burned the love spell and dreamed of marrying the man she loved with her heart and mind and soul.
Instead, she said nothing. Just kissed his face and held him close. And waited for dawn.
Chapter Eleven
He’d left the blinds open.
The weak light of morning pierced through and reminded him the night was officially over. He glanced over at the woman beside him. She slept deeply, her cute little snores confirming her exhaustion. What the hell was he going to do?
Leave her a note? Bring her coffee? Discuss the night? Remain silent? The endless options stretched before him and as a man, he was already guaranteed to pick the wrong one.
Her rich hair spread out on the pillow like a dark angel, and he spotted the telltale signs of stubble burn over her cheeks and neck. Her lips looked puffy and bruised. A sliver of guilt pierced through him. Had he used her too hard and too well? He never thought of her as a virgin. Every motion confirmed her open, raw sexuality. She was a wet dream come true—a purist with the body and soul of a seductress. In bed she exhibited a naked truth that confirmed she gave all of herself. Just like in her life.
Such a priceless, rare gift. One he wasn’t worthy of. One he’d never ask her to give to him again.
An empty grief roared through him but he refused to examine the emotion. Maybe he’d shower, get dressed, and bring her coffee. He’d confirm how much she meant to him; how much the endless hours of making love changed him forever. Then explain once again why they needed to end it.
Unless . . .
The possibility swarmed before him. What if they continued the relationship? Carina in his bed. Taking her to dinner. Seducing her out of that proper business suit. Working side by side. Maybe it could work. Maybe . . .
Michael Conte and his family inspired him to make the most out of himself. When his father walked, Max needed to build something he could count on. His word. His honor. His trust. This meant everything to him, and defined who he was as a man. If Michael discovered he’d slept with Carina, he may never get that trust back, and it could break him.
He’d never let that happen.
And what could he possibly offer? He didn’t have the emotional capacity to give her what she deserved. One day she’d ask for a ring. Children. A life of permanent commitment. All he could give was the moment—good sex, companionship, respect. Eventually, she’d tire of his crap and move on. Even worse, what if he did something to hurt her? He made the vow long ago to never use any actions to hurt a woman’s heart. It was too damn delicate, and he didn’t want the responsibility.
She was extraordinary in every aspect, and completely beyond him.
Decision made, he slid out of bed and headed toward the bathroom.
The knock on the door surprised him. Max strained his ears, but another light tapping echoed in the room. Damn, it wasn’t even 6 a.m. Not wanting to wake Carina, he put on boxers and opened the door.
He couldn’t believe his eyes.
Mama Conte stood in the doorway.
“Maximus?” Her confused expression registered in slow motion. As if trapped in a disaster movie, the rest of the events rolled slowly in time and had a strange surreal quality. Carina’s mother squinted at the number on the door and back at the piece of paper she clutched in her hand. “I knew you were in Vegas also, but this is Carina’s room.”
Max ignored his rapidly beating heart and gave her a big hug. “Mama Conte, what a pleasant surprise. Nope, this is my room, but let me get dressed and I’ll meet you right outside and show you where Carina is.”
He almost won.
She threw back her head and cackled. “Silly man, your underwear doesn’t offend me.” She neatly sidestepped him and took a few steps into the room. Removed her cardigan. “Used to run bare-butt naked in my house the whole summer.” Walked over to lay her sweater on the back of the couch. “Go ahead and change.”
She tripped over a high-heeled shoe. Stared at the zigzag trail of clothing. Ventured farther into the suite toward the open French doors of the bedroom.
His gaze followed hers. A pair of lacy garters. A scrap of thong. His dress shirt.
He opened his mouth to stop her but she stopped right before the bedroom. The low snore grew louder and turned into a rough grunt. A tumble of dark curls contrasted with the stark white of the sheet. Slowly, Mama Conte walked over to the bed and stared at her daughter.
Naked.
Suddenly, the film went into crazy action and he snapped. He jumped in front of the bed and put out his hands to ward off a batty mommy attack. “Oh, Dio mio, Mama Conte, it’s not what you think. Well, it’s what you think, but you weren’t supposed to see it. Oh, Dio, I am sorry, so sorry.” His babbling grew until he realized he’d just reverted back to his youth.