Hot Pickle - J.J. Knight Page 0,60

most about winning.

Max doesn’t have a cruel bone in his body.

I slip my hand into the waistband of the fitted shorts. I slide them down an inch, revealing the charcoal gray of fitted boxers. I decide to speed up the process and bring both down at the same time.

Standing barefoot in front of him, I barely reach his chest. “Ready to get wet?” I ask.

“I’m hoping you already are.”

He has that right.

I shift the shower curtain aside and step into the tub. The room is dim and blue, and the spray cascades down my body like a waterfall in a hidden lagoon.

Max steps in behind me and immediately envelops me in an embrace. His hands go everywhere, following the contours of my body, cupping my breasts.

“I thought I was exhausted,” he says. “But right now, I am painfully awake.”

He dips his head in the water, then shakes, droplets flying. I laugh and cover my face. “You’re like a dog!”

“Exactly.” He grabs my hips and pulls me back against his hard cock.

I suck in a breath. I am so ready for him.

He turns me around to face him. “The height differential isn’t doing us any favors.”

I laugh. “It’s true.”

He kneels in front of me, pressing his head against my ribs.

I sink my fingers into his wet hair, curling in the spray. His kisses move down my belly, and he lifts one of my thighs to his shoulder.

Fingers slip inside me.

I suck in a breath and clutch his shoulders, water streaming across my shoulders and down my body to where his hands work me, his mouth drifting lower.

I clutch his head, holding on for dear life, but my standing leg wants to give out.

I lean down. “Take me.”

He sits on the bottom of the tub. He guides my knees around his waist and settles me down on his cock.

The water flows over both of us, my hair slick. His hands grasp my thighs, and he lifts me until I’m at the tip, then brings me down again.

I think it’s going to be hot and heavy and fast, but it somehow isn’t.

He looks up at me, his wet lashes framing those beautiful eyes. “You’re a goddess,” he whispers.

He makes me feel like one. The blue light dances in the shadows. My hair cascades between us. Ripples of pleasure pulse through my body as we move together.

The bathroom fills with steam, and it’s a grotto, the water, the man, and me floating over him.

That first aching tendril of emotion slips through me. I knew it was there, waiting to be nurtured.

But there’s no denying it. I’m falling for this man. Our affair may be secret, illicit, known only to us. But in this space, we melt together in the semi-dark, his hands caressing my body. His expressive face tells me everything about what he’s feeling, and I know it is so much more.

I hold onto his strong arms and move my own body over his. I’m swamped with emotion and pleasure and passion for him.

His hands tighten on my back, and I move faster, up and down, our eyes locked together.

The tension mounts, winding like a clock.

Before I’ve prepared for it, before I know it’s there, the orgasm springs, rippling out like a stone dropped in a pond. I gasp out loud, and Max holds me tight.

He pulses inside me, warm, gentle, like life itself. I can see it all. Mornings and days and nights. Good times. Hard times. Stretching out beyond this moment into our future.

My tears mix with the water raining down. How did this happen? How did I find this man? How did he become mine?

There’s nothing like this feeling. It obliterates anything I felt with Malachi. Anything that came before. It’s pure, untouchable, as bright as starlight.

We exhale together, and he keeps me close. His face is buried in my breasts and he clutches me like there is nothing left in the world but us.

27

Max

I know exactly when my employees find out about the bodybuilding article.

I’m in the kitchen with my manager Andre, discussing all the extra work required for the fiftieth anniversary and who to give extra shifts to cover it.

Andre is quiet and listens carefully. He’s mid-fifties, soft-spoken, and dependable. His tall, lanky figure is a fixture at my deli, and has been for years.

But I glance through the door to the restaurant and spot Tiana and Karen whispering over their phones behind the register.

I pause in talking to Andre as they wave Angelo over.

The restaurant is quiet,