Off Limits (18 page)

She glances back and forth between us with a smile, eyebrows raised in a knowing expression. “You two celebrating something?”

“What makes you say that?” I ask, embarrassed, as I fold my legs under my chair and attempt to look like the professional lawyer I am and not the kind of person who just got felt up under this table.

She shrugs one shoulder. “You just have that look about you. I mean, obviously not a first date, but you’re both kind of glowing, so . . . anniversary?” she guesses, with a sideways glance at Max.

“Right on the money,” he answers before I can respond. “It’s the one year anniversary since Chloe realized she had a secret crush on me. It’s been a long time stewing, though,” he adds with a smirk in my direction.

Okay screw being a professional adult right now. “Actually, this is more of a trial date,” I reply, still glaring at him, though a traitorous smile is threatening to creep onto my lips while I do. “I still haven’t decided if I should keep him yet.” I trail my leg up the side of his calf as I talk, keeping my eyes locked on his.

“The eternal question,” the waitress says, our stack of plates balanced in her arms. “But if you ask me, honey, it looks like you’ve already decided.”

She’s gone before I can figure out how I feel about that, and Max’s smirk has grown exponentially, clearly emboldened by this endorsement. “Don’t let it go to your head,” I warn him.

“Too late,” he replies. “You’re already well and truly lodged in my brain.” He taps at his temple, then reaches across the table to catch my hand. “Do you see what I mean, Chloe? We could be normal. We could be just like any other couple here. Living life, moving forward, not worrying about what others think about it.” He sweeps his arm to gesture at the rest of the restaurant.

Moving forward. Together.

We both follow his gaze around the room, to the couples huddled under their own little thatched roofs, listening to the low key music the band in the corner is playing, something melodic, but not too droll, and just loud enough to serve as a pleasant background. There are younger couples holding hands across their tables, gazing at each other ardently. There are older couples reclining in their chairs, or sharing one of the two-person coconut monster drinks.

“On second thought,” he adds, “I take it back. We make a much hotter couple. But besides that, we’re like any of them.”

I roll my eyes and resist the urge to kick him again. “You’re definitely letting the ego swell your brain.”

“It’s not my ego,” he protests. “The hotness in this couple is all you.” He says it jokingly, winking at me, but my protest dies on my lips when his dark green eyes catch mine. In the same way that always happens when I’m out with him, relaxed, we fall into our own private little bubble. The rest of the world fades to a background hum around us, and we could be the only two people in this restaurant.

His hand tightens around mine, and our fingers interlace, as I savor the rough glide of his skin against mine, the solid, reassuring strength in his grip. Something about being with him just makes me feel instantly safe and protected, like I can relax here in a way I can’t anywhere else in the world. Except that “here” isn’t a place. It’s just wherever he is.

“Let’s get the check, shall we?” he suggests, and I can’t agree fast enough. The sooner we get out of here, the sooner I can have him all to myself again.

“
E
xcuse the mess
, it’s, uh. . .” I pause on the threshold of my apartment, one arm barring Chloe’s entry. Then I let it drop and wave her inside. “Okay, it always looks like this. But I can change, I swear.”

She snorts. “Fat chance.” But as her razor-sharp hazel gaze roams across my one-bedroom, she doesn’t seem judgmental, she’s merely taking it in. She hardly bats an eye at the handful of dishes in the sink, or the broken coat rack I’ve never quite gotten around to fixing, beneath which is a stack of the coats I planned to hang on it whenever I finally managed to repair it.

I’d been expecting sarcastic comments on at least one thing wrong with my place, but instead, Chloe just slips her hand into mine and laces our fingers together. I’m startled, if only by how natural it feels to stand here with her, holding her hand. Like we’ve done this a thousand times before.

It’s both addictive and terrifying.

“I like it.”

I laugh. “Flattery will get you everywhere, doll.”

She elbows me. “I’m serious! It’s very you.”

“Disorganized?”

“Homey,” she counters, her eyes on the living room, with my large but fairly outdated flatscreen, a striped couch I found in a second hand store five years ago that reminded me of something you’d see on a yacht, and stacks of books and movies on various bookshelves that I also scavenged from yard sales or vintage shops. “It looks real. Lived-in. My place just looks like a floor model of an apartment, not a real home.” She leans in to study a photograph hung in the main entrance, a black-and-white photo of San Francisco from the bay circa the 1920s.

“No, your place is sophisticated and stylish. Just like you.”

She turns to look up at me then, and I can’t resist her any longer. I cup her chin in one hand and lean down to kiss her softly, slowly, her lips so soft and smooth against mine. It’s still surreal, being here with her, having her in my arms, being able to kiss the lips I’ve watched from afar for years. Just a few weeks ago, we were colleagues, and not even cordial ones at that. Now, I can’t imagine going back. I can’t imagine not being able to take her hand, wrap my arms around her waist, kiss these full, sensuous lips. . .

I part her lips with my tongue, gently, and savor the sigh she makes as she leans against me, her body going soft and pliable in my arms. I tighten my grip around her waist, run my hands up and down her back, memorizing every inch of her.

Tonight, I want to take my time.

We cross my apartment slowly, her body pressed to mine, her feet balanced on top of my own as I walk both of us through the place, along the little corridor to the bedroom. At the entrance, I pause to draw her dress over her head in one smooth motion, leaving her in only her lacy bra and panties. I let the dress fall beside us and trace my hands down her curves, as I tilt my head to kiss down the length of her long neck. At the spot where her neck meets her shoulder, I bite down lightly, and grin when she moans into my ear.

“Max,” she whispers, and I pull away just far enough to meet her eyes as I unclasp her sheer, lace bra and let it fall away between us.

“Chloe.”

Our eyes lock for a long, slow moment, but we don’t need words. We both know what we’re feeling. I can feel her pulse where my one hand cups her neck, and my other wraps around her body. Surely she can feel mine, too, as her hands slip under my shirt and run up my stomach to press against my chest. Her skin is soft and hot against mine, setting me aflame. I’ve never felt so in tune with anyone before—so sure of what she’s thinking, so positive that she knows exactly how I feel in this moment.

I want her. Every inch of her body, mind and spirit. I want to grab hold of her and never let go. Tonight I am staking my claim. She. Is. Mine.

She reaches up to tangle her fingers in my hair, and I lean in to press my lips to hers again, deeper this time, as she lifts one leg to wrap around my waist. We fall onto the bed as she peels my shirt off, and I lie along her, her hard nipples against my bare skin, driving me wild.

But still, we take our time. Run our hands over each other in slow, smooth strokes, memorizing each other’s skin, one touch at a time. We have all night. We have all the time in the world, if we choose to take it.

Her lips find my neck, her teeth grazing that sensitive spot just behind my ear, and I groan into her neck before I bite down in response, hard enough to make her gasp and writhe. That is quickly becoming one of my favorite sounds in the world, the sound of Chloe surrendering to me.

Our hands simultaneously reach to undo my belt buckle, then my zipper, both of us tugging at fabric until we’re lying diagonally across the bed naked, her body splayed beneath me. I cannot get enough of her. I cup her breasts in both hands, trace my tongue between them, savoring her taste, salty sweet, and quintessentially Chloe.

She runs her hands down to grab my ass, and I raise my thigh to slide it between her legs, all the way up to her scorching wet heat, grinning when my leg grazes her slit. She’s already wet, already waiting for me, and my cock throbs against her stomach, rock hard in anticipation.

She reaches down to grab me, and I groan again at the sensation of her soft hand wrapping around my dick. As her palm glides back and forth along my length, sending flames rocketing through my nerves, I trace my hand over the flat plane of her stomach, and further to circle her pussy. I trace her lips, her mound, my fingers circling right above her clit but never quite touching where she wants me most, not yet. I can feel her body tense in frustration, her hips rising against mine to thrust against my fingers.

I smile and press my palm flat against her stomach, forcing her to lie back against the sheets. In response, she tightens her grip on my cock and starts to move her hand faster, grazing the sensitive tip as she jacks me up and down again. My abs tense in response as I draw back to smile at her. Fuck she’s beautiful.

“Tease,” she says, her eyes dilated, lips half-parted in want.

“I could say the same to you,” I answer, though my voice gives me away a little, breaking slightly with a groan when she squeezes her hand around me again.

“It’s not teasing if I plan to give in,” she counters, as she brushes her thumb across the tip of my cock, which pulses in her hand, throbbing hard.

“Then I’m not teasing either.” I let my forefinger slip to her opening, not quite entering her, not yet, but coating myself in her wetness, tracing the edges of her slit. She shivers beneath me, her lips parted in a silent o. “Because I plan to fuck you,” I murmur as I push my forefinger into her slowly.

Chloe’s head falls back as her body arches toward me, her hands stilling in distraction. I love watching her like this, enthralled, and knowing that I’m the cause, the reason her breath is coming faster and faster, her body twisting beneath me.

I slide a second finger inside her and curl them upward, until my fingertips are pressing against her front walls. I run my fingers up and down that wall, slowly, feeling every inch of her. She lifts her legs to wrap them around my waist, and tightens her grip on my cock again and I can’t wait any longer.

Chloe sighs as I draw my fingers out of her and lean back to grab the condom from my nightstand. “You are too fucking good at that you know,” she says as she lifts her foot to nudge her heel against my shoulder.

“I just love watching you squirm.” I catch her eye, and grin when her face flushes at that. As I roll the condom down my length, I curl my hand around her ankle and turn to lick the arch of her foot.

A surprised laugh escapes her, and she tries to squirm away across the bed, yanking her leg free. In one smooth motion, I lean over her on all fours and pin her beneath me, both of us laughing as I lay along her, our chests moving in sync, hearts pounding where our skin touches.

“You’re right,” she whispers, her eyes snagging on mine once more.

“I usually am,” I reply, dipping in to kiss her softly, and nipping her lip when I draw back again. “About what this time?”

“We are normal. This feels normal. Or, not normal, I guess.” Her hands brush through my hair, her fingers lingering against my scalp and send a rush of shivers along my spine. “Better than normal. It feels natural, being here. With you. Like we’ve done this a thousand times.”

I kiss her again, slower this time, gently. Then I brush her hair back from her forehead and gaze down into those gorgeous hazel eyes, the ones I can never get out of my head anymore. “We have.” A small smile tugs at the corner of my mouth. “In my fantasies, anyway.”

She rolls her eyes and punches my shoulder, but she’s still smiling, still gazing up at me like she can’t believe this is really happening.

I know the feeling.

“Cheesy,” she says again, but it’s a whisper this time, hardly an accusation.

“Yep,” I whisper, as I catch her ear between my teeth and suck lightly on her lobe. She moans and tilts her hips up toward me as I slide my thigh between her legs again, spreading her supple thighs to either side of me. I trace my cock up her inner thigh, waiting to feel her shiver before I lean back and trail up the other side of her leg, until her hips buck again, desperate. “Fuck, you make me want to lose control, Chloe.”

When I sink into her this time, I go slow. Her pussy is hot and wet around me, tightening hard, her muscles tensing as I glide into her, deeper, deeper. When I’m seated fully, she lets out another sigh, something like relief. I know that feeling too. I don’t feel the same without her anymore.

For a second we pause, her legs folding around my waist, her heels digging into my ass, my cock buried in her pussy, both of us savoring the moment, the feel of one another.

Then I brace myself against the bed and pull back, slowly, slowly, making her wriggle and writhe as her tight walls clench around me. I move like that, slowly at first, but building faster when I can’t help myself anymore, when she feels too fucking good, looks too fucking hot spread before me on the sheets, her breasts bouncing with every thrust, her nipples rock hard, a faint sheen of sweat glistening on her throat. I bend down to suck on her nipple, tonguing its peak relentlessly as I speed up my thrusts. She arches her hips to thrust back in time with me.

“Oh God, Max. Right there,” she moans.

I cup both hands under her ass, lifting her higher in the air to thrust into her deeper, and her head falls back against the bed as she moans, hair tangled beneath her. She angles her hips toward mine with my next thrust, searching for more friction, and I groan. “Fuck, you feel incredible,” I hiss.

I drive into her harder, my balls slapping against her ass. I drop one hand to circle her clit, but she’s so close to coming that I hardly touch her before she’s crying out, her neck thrown back, her pussy spasming around me with the strength of her orgasm.

I don’t stop. my finger pressing against the throbbing nub, thrusting so deep into her I can feel my cock press against her walls. She clenches around my shaft, and I’m close to losing it, fucking her hard and fast now, uncontrollable, only aware of the feeling of her body beneath me, the shockwaves of pleasure she sends through me. I’m so lost in this woman, time seems to stop. “Give me one more, Chlo, come all over my cock.” My voice is hoarse with the desperation I feel to make her lose control again. “You’re so tight and hot, so wet around me when you get close,” I pant. “There’s nothing sexier than watching you come.” She squeezes me tighter and I hear her breath hitch, then her cry out as she falls over the edge.

Two more hard shoves, and I can’t contain it anymore. I come with a groan through gritted teeth, gripping her hips hard as I pump into her spasming pussy. “God, Max,” she moans as she milks every drop, her tight walls straining around me.

When I finally collapse against her, we’re both soaked with sweat and panting. I lean in to kiss her chest, her neck, all the way down her jawline, and she turns to catch my mouth with hers, sucking my bottom lip between hers and biting hard enough to send a rush through my veins.

I lean up on my elbows to gaze at her again, both of us smiling.

“If I’d known it would be this good, I’d have jumped your bones years ago,” she quips, and I laugh.

“Guess we’ll just have to make up for lost time,” I murmur into her throat as I slide out of her, my hand already trailing back down her stomach, not yet ready to let tonight end. I want to hear her scream my name at least once before we fall asleep tonight. . .

* * *

I
wake
several hours later in my darkened room, a painful tingling in my left arm. I’m fine with the pins and needles because Chloe is still cradled in my arms, her back against me, her breath soft and even with sleep. I shift a little closer to her, savoring the sensation of her bare ass against my cock, which twitches to life again, hardening as she sighs in her sleep, her ass snuggling back against me even tighter.

A buzz interrupts my thoughts.

Shit. My phone’s ringing.

I ignore it. Voicemail can take care of whatever client has an emergency at this hour—probably someone international who didn’t bother to check the time on the West coast before they called.