“I’ve never wanted anything more in my life,” she whispered back. I kissed her sweetly, locking our lips together, inhaling on the same breath. She lifted her legs, wrapped them around my waist, and I slid inside her.
We shared one passionate, ragged moan, tongues tangling, fingers entwined. I dragged my cock all the way out. Waited. Slammed all the way back in. The bed smacked against the wall, but the look we shared was more soulful than dirty.
“I’m not scared anymore,” I whispered. “I should have known the moment you stepped onto that fire escape that you were the one for me.”
Her eyelids fluttered. A tear slid down her cheek. I kissed it, smoothed her hair back. “I’m not scared, Max,” she whispered back. “You were my soul mate all along.”
I let go of her hands so she could wrap her arms around me, holding me close. We rocked against each other, and I fucked her in a steady rhythm that kept our lips close and our eyes on each other. Fiona threw her head back and moaned as I fucked us closer and closer. She flexed her hips, knocking me on my back, and then rode my cock with a confident, sly grin. Head tipped back, body writhing, all that hair flowing past her shoulders. I was goddamn enchanted and so in love I was ready to leap those tall buildings in a single bound again. Maybe hire a plane to sky-write I love you Fiona Quinn. Light up an entire city block to declare my feelings for the world to see.
“Max, oh my god,” she gasped, moving her hips in a circle. I wrapped my fingers around her waist, lifted her up and down, grinned when she panted my name over and over.
That was the last rational action I was able to do. After that, Fiona planted her palms on my chest and rode me hard and fast, giving me everything I’d ever wanted, ever needed. She dropped down, pressed our foreheads together, kept taking me as deep as she could. I was probably going to actually die from pleasure this time. My hands tangled into her hair, and I lifted my mouth to hers.
“I love you so damn much,” I whispered. She cried out, shuddered. I flipped her back over, pinned her down, and groaned in wonder as we climaxed together—kissing, sighing, panting.
“I love you so damn much,” she echoed, laughing softly as I nuzzled against her neck. She squeezed me tight. I held her close. Both of us took long, soothing inhales to slow our breathing.
When I finally lifted my face from her hair, she was—thank god—still there, still real, not a dream. She was blissed out, lipstick and mascara smeared. Hair snarled.
She opened her eyes. “You were right about riding a motorcycle, Max.”
“What’s that, princess?” I brushed her hair from her face and kissed the tip of her nose.
“Riding it does feel like fucking.”
49
Fiona
An hour later, after we’d had sex again, Max set up a floor picnic for the two of us. He opened a bottle of red wine and had pizza delivered. I wore his shirt, and he wore sweatpants and no shirt, and we both had the kind of bedhead that comes from hard, satisfying fucking.
Satisfying wasn’t really the best description for the sex we’d just had. Epic was more accurate. Max and I had kissed and tasted and fucked each other with a raw urgency. There were bruises on my hips, a burn between my thighs, marks on my neck.
Over and over we’d whispered I need you.
Over and over we’d whispered I love you.
Now, with pizza and wine between us, we stared at each other with shy expressions. I bit the tip of my thumb and gave him the biggest, cheesiest grin. “Bad news,” I said.
His dark eyes were warm. “What’s that, princess?”
“I really think our friendship is over.”
His laughter gave me goosebumps. “That’s a damn shame. This is another first for me, but I think riding a motorcycle across the country automatically makes you my girlfriend. Right?”
Sparks. Everywhere.
“I believe that to be true.” I pretended to assess him. “You make a very cute boyfriend.”
“Cuter than Brett?”
I leaned over our food and planted a kiss on his mouth. “Never heard of him.”
He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “I can’t believe you came to get me.”
I sat back, wrapped my arms around my knees. “I was just so sure that we’d made a mistake. Let our fears get in the way of our happiness. I knew you were my soul mate, Max. Knew it deep in my heart. I decided to be brave. Chase a little joy, do something a bit spontaneous.”
“And how was it?” he asked. “Living free, on the road?”
I allowed a dramatic pause. “I fucking loved it.”
His crooked grin weakened my knees. “You’re really a bad girl now.”
I pointed at him. “Bad influence.”
“I’m a gentleman. Always have been.”
I pulled off a bite of pizza, popped in my mouth. He sipped his wine. “Would a gentleman leave hand-prints on my ass from spanking?”
He shook his head. “Such a smart mouth.”
We ate in slightly shy, happy silence for a moment. But then I placed my plate down, picked up my glass. “These past ten days have been like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. This country, it’s so big. Everything had me in awe. I was inspired and curious. I had a lot of fucking fun. And I loved it.”
“I thought you might,” he said. “There’s wanderlust in your soul, Fiona Quinn.”
“I think you’re right,” I admitted. Then I poked him in the arm. “I went to Moab, per your recommendation.”
“Hell yeah,” he said. “You saw those canyons, right?”
“And the Milky Way,” I said, swallowing past a rush of emotion. “My first time seeing it.”
He gave me a cute, lopsided smile. “It blows my mind every time.”
That night, I’d sat on my bike and watched an entire universe reveal itself. Beneath those stars and planets, the only thing missing was Max, sitting next to me.
“What about you? What happened with the job? You’re really… coming home?” My voice caught at the end. Max reached forward, curled his fingers through mine.
“I’m really coming home,” he said. “I’ve got some resumes out at shops in the city. I’ll crash with Pop, help him at The Red Room, until I get my own place. Besides, I want to be there for Mateo and Rafael while they plan their wedding. And I want, I need, to be with you.”
I blinked back tears.
“I spent these four weeks heartbroken. Miserable and depressed and crying over love songs on the fucking radio. I couldn’t sleep. I didn’t eat. Mateo and Pop had an intervention and told me I was a dipshit who was totally in love with you and I needed to make it right.”
A tear rolled down my cheek. “I was just devastated, Max. I’m so sorry. About how it all went down, about everything.”
Max grabbed my hand, face serious. “Fiona, no. It wasn’t your fault. Not at all. You were right. I thought I was destined to make the same choices as my mom, to be the kind of person who continually disappointed her loved ones. To break vows and break up families and always, always leave in the end.” His voice grew hoarse. “I thought you’d be better off without me. This, this feeling, of falling in love with you, was the most powerful feeling I’d ever had. And I ran, instead of facing it. With you.”