My eyes close in delight as he hisses out, "f.u.c.k. Jesus, Lena, I-f.u.c.k." He presses into me from behind, his hard heat pushing into my a.s.s, a finger sliding back and forth through my heat. He puts his lips to my ear and whispers, "You always gonna be this wet for me?"

Not even a moment's hesitation. "Always, baby." I haven't even noticed he's removed his boxers 'til the head of him seeks entrance. Arching my back, I hold the counter tight and mutter, "For as long as you want me."

He stills at my back, and my eyes snap open as I think hard about what I've said wrong. Moving my hair over my shoulder, a gentle kiss at the base of my neck eases my tension. With his lips against me, he utters, "When are you gonna understand, woman?" His c.o.c.k slides through my wet heat, teasing. I moan weakly. He places himself at my entrance before stating harshly, "I am never letting you go."

With one severe thrust, he's inside of me, stretching me, all the way. And I see stars. I gasp, "Oh G.o.d!" at the same time Max lets out a guttural, "Jesus. f.u.c.k."

Bending at the waist, I lower my face to the counter, resting my cheek to the cool surface as he pounds into me angrily. Every single thrust pulls a pant from me. My b.r.e.a.s.t.s bounce in time with my body. Max snakes a hand around my stomach, pulling me deeper into him as he drives into me. He's so deep he hits places of me I didn't know existed. It's amazing. Breathtaking.

Slamming into me, he whispers, "s.h.i.t. Perfect. Tell me what you need, baby."

Shame long out the window, I cry out, "Pull my hair." Never stopping his violent pace, he reaches up and wraps his fingers into my hair, pulling lightly. But it's not enough. When I wheeze out, "Harder," his grip and pace turn cruel.

He hisses out, "f.u.c.k, you're amazing."

More painful than expected, I moan loudly as my core contracts suddenly. The pressure builds higher and higher. My core squeezes tighter and tighter. Sweat streams down my forehead and neck as I grit my teeth expectantly, waiting for the impact of the delicious torture I'm being a.s.saulted with.

My body goes numb with perfect warmth as the stars behind my eyes explode, shattering into a million pieces like a mosaic of multicolored gla.s.s. Beautiful and painful at the same time. I come around him, moaning, milking him with every pull, and he growls, "Right behind ya, babe."

His thrusts turn erratic, uncontrollable, and in the state of bliss I'm in, I squeeze him internally, wanting his release. Releasing my hair, he grips my hips and drives into me b.a.l.l.s deep once more before his fingers dig into me. A low, guttural sound is forced out of his throat as his c.o.c.k explodes inside of me, jerking. As he comes down from his high, he slowly pulls out then pushes back in. He does this a number of times and our combined arousal runs down my thighs.

No condom.

At my uncharacteristically calm thought, he states, "Didn't use a condom."

I nod, turning back to him, looking over my shoulder, his c.o.c.k still inside me. "I'm on birth control. I have an implant in my arm. And I'm clean."

His eyes soften. "Get tested every year at my physical. I'm good."

I smile a small smile. "Well, all right then."

Pulling out, he turns me, pressing me back into the counter, his hard, naked body on mine. "Never f.u.c.ked like that before."

My smile turns shy. "Me either."

Max leans down, placing a soft kiss on my lips. "Never wanted to before you." He pulls back, placing a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "I wasn't lying, Lena. You drive me crazy."

I swallow hard. "Crazy can be good."

His eyes dance. "With you, anything's good."

He's killing me. I must save myself from the sweet! Slipping out from under his arm, I rush toward the shower. "Last one in's a rotten egg!"

He chuckles behind me and I start the shower, wondering what it would take for Max to love me like I do him.

Chapter Thirty-Five.

Helena Max and I woke early, cuddling and exchanging sweet kisses before we had to pick up Ceecee from Tina's, where Mama Leokov had been watching all the children the night before. Time kept creeping up on us, but we didn't care. We'd both showered the night before, and thanks to Max's overnight bag, he'd packed everything he needed, from clothes, an electric shaver and hair wax, to deodorant and cologne.

If you asked me if I had dug into that bag when he wasn't there just to smell his cologne, I would tell you to mind you own freaking business...but I wouldn't deny it. In fact, the second pillow on my bed smelled an awful lot like that cologne. Funny, as I use that pillow as my snuggle pillow.

When it came time to go, I slid on navy sweats, a white tank, a black zip-up sports jacket, and slipped on my sneakers, putting my hair up in a high ponytail, and not a st.i.tch of makeup. Max walked out of the bathroom and I almost died.

By G.o.d, he is magnificent.

He strolled out of my bathroom wearing black sweats, white Chucks, and nothing else. I eyed the lean, hard ridges of his stomach, my mouth parting in appreciation. When a tight black tee covered those ridges, I felt myself pout. Max strolled over to me, stopping only an inch away. He took my chin between his thumb and forefinger, and lifted my face to his. He pressed a firm, meaningful kiss on my pouting lips before pulling away, his golden eyes searching mine. "You keep looking at me like that and we'll never get going."

I breathed, "Right," but my eyes went to his lips.

He stepped away and groaned, "Lena! f.u.c.k. Now look at what you've done." He grasped his growing erection and I laughed softly, covering my blush with my hand. He glared at me. "Yeah. Laugh it up. I'm gonna scare the f.u.c.kin' kids with this s.h.i.t! So, stop."

But I couldn't. I walked over to him and pressed myself into his body, smiling up at him. Placing a hand on his chest, I teased, "You get moody when you're h.o.r.n.y."

His muttered response was fuel for my ego. "Never been this h.o.r.n.y before in my life, not even when I was a teenager." He reached back to the counter for his black NY baseball cap, placed it on his head, and then glowered down at me. "You got p.u.s.s.y voodoo or some s.h.i.t, I swear."

He took my hand and led me to the door, grabbing a hoodie on the way. "Let's go, cupcake." He paused at the door, looking back at me with that familiar tender gleam in his eyes. "Have I told you how beautiful you look today?"

Ugh. Swoon.

I give Max the name of the park, and luckily, he knows where it is. I turn in my seat to chat to a nervous looking Ceecee. Her golden eyes bright with excitement, her auburn hair pulled into two sweet looking pigtails, dressed in a pink velour tracksuit, and white tee, she looks gorgeous this morning. "How're you doing back there, young gra.s.shopper?"

She looks up at me with wide eyes and whispers, "I don't know if I can do this."

My eyes narrow at her. Sergeant Lena, coming through! "Don't give me that BS. Look at what you've done all by yourself in the last month. It's short of a miracle. Your fitness is past what I planned for. If you can do that, you can do this."

She raises her brows. "I didn't do that alone. You helped."

I roll my eyes. "Semantics. I didn't force you; you agreed to do it and you kept your promise." It's true that I still have a light session with Ceecee three times a week before our cooking lessons, as well as the three sessions she has with James. And she does it without complaint.

The kid is a little socially awkward. She has friends at school, but she doesn't like for them to come over, or for her to go to their houses, mainly because those houses aren't access-friendly for people in wheelchairs. Ceecee told me how once she went to a school friend's house and it was awkward. So awkward that Ceecee decided having friends at school was okay, but that was as far as it went. There would be no friend communication outside of school.

I told her that she must be lonely. My heart broke when she responded with a light shrug, saying she was used to it. I'm feeling all too protective of this girl. I can see it and realize this could be an issue, but, G.o.d help me, I can't stop myself from trying to help. This isn't just another child. This is Max's child. And she is a sweet, smart, self-conscious girl who I want the best for. I love Max. And I love Ceecee just as much. Maybe more, because she needs it more. As long as I'm around, Ceecee will never feel lonely. I swear it.

When she swallows hard, face pale, I start to sweat. "Hey," she looks up at me, near panting, and I utter quietly, "if you really think you can't do this, we'll go home." She blinks up at me in surprise and I feel the need to reiterate, "This is your choice, honey. One hundred percent."

And just as I knew she would, she responds a hushed, "Maybe I'll just go and see how I feel."

A beaming smile crosses my face. "That's my girl."

Max squeezes my knee in grat.i.tude. He knows better than to cut into our girl-talk. Never taking his eyes off the road, he talks back to Ceecee over his shoulder. "Baby girl, how would you feel about going to Coney Island tomorrow?"

Her eyes widen. "Really?"

Max smiles. "No s.h.i.t."

A shy smile spreads across her face. "Okay, but only if Helena comes."

I make a pffft noise. "As if you could stop me, honey."

He squeezes my knee again. "Then we're all set." He looks over to me, grinning. Not being able to help myself, I lean forward and press a hard kiss on his mouth.

Ceecee breaks into a fit of giggles. "Ew, gross."

On a sigh, I tell her honestly, "Girlie, one day, you're gonna look at a certain man and wonder what you ever found gross about boys."

Max's brows furrow as he adds hastily, "But not for, like, another thirty years." He looks back at her in the mirror. "Maybe forty."

Ceecee breaks into another fit of giggles, and looking over at Max, I join her. He winks at me, and taking his hand in mine, I sigh dreamily.

I am so in love with you.

We arrive at the park, and when Ceecee extracts herself from the car, Max takes my hand and we walk over to the basketball court. I can already see some kids in wheelchairs, as well as some adults, but I can't make them out. As we get closer, I see Felicity, Willa, and James. Smiling like a loon, I call out, "What are you guys doing here?"

Willa smiles sheepishly. "I heard you enquire about the game, so I figured we'd come to cheer Ceecee on."

Felicity grins. "Check it out." She opens her jacket to reveal a white she has decorated with colored Sharpies. It reads, "Ceecee's number one!" Ceecee giggles, and stepping forward, Felicity holds her hand up to her and they high-five.

James finishes up speaking to a young man with a prosthetic leg before jogging over. He holds his hand out to Max and they do a little bro-shake-slash-back-slap. "How you doin', Max?"

To my surprise, Max lets go of my hand and pulls me into the side of his body, uttering meaningfully, "Better than I've been in a long time."

James watches him closely, searching his face a moment before dipping his chin in silent conversation. What the h.e.l.l was all that about? James looks over at me, eyes smiling. "You look good, Lena."

I bat my lashes. "Why, thank you, kind sir. You don't look so bad yourself." I wink and feel Max's fingers dig into my hip. I look up into his suddenly stormy eyes and mouth, 'Ow.' In response, he narrows his eyes to slits and pecks my lips.

James kneels down in front of Ceecee. "You ready for this, C?" At her hesitation, he adds, "It's not like a real game or anything. It's just a lot of fun. We mess around with the ball and joke and laugh. Sometimes, people switch teams midgame, and then other times, there is no team at all. I promise you'll like it." She doesn't say a word and he smiles knowingly. "You need luck?"

She covers her mouth with a hand to suppress a giggle and nods. He sighs melodramatically. "The things I do for you people." Then he lowers his bald head. Ceecee reaches up with both hands and rubs it for luck, giggling all the while.

James wishes her luck, then jogs back to the young amputee, helping him remove his prosthetic leg and sit in a wheelchair. When the young man turns to us, Ceecee gasps. It's quiet, but I hear it loud and clear. I look down at her to find her eyes wide, mouth parted, and a small blush on her cheeks. Lifting my head, I look back at the boy. He looks a little older than her, maybe fifteen. When he spots her, he stills. His face becomes void of expression as he watches her watching him. I peek behind me to find Willa and Felicity chatting and laughing with Max.

Glad for the girls' distraction, I lean down to Ceecee and say, "Why don't you go say hi? Make friends? Isn't that why we're here?"

Ceecee nods, never taking her eyes off the boy. A small smile plays at his lips, and I can't help but notice how handsome he is for a young man. Chances are, he's going to be gorgeous when he grows up. Standing, he was tall, and sitting, he still looks tall. With messy brown hair, light eyes, and tanned skin, the harsh angles of his face make him look like a young version of Matt Bomer.

As she starts to wheel herself over to him, my heart smiles with pride as the boy wheels himself to meet her halfway. They simply eye each other carefully before the boy smiles and says something to Ceecee, holding out his hand. She takes it reluctantly, her blush now a blazing inferno, shaking it and mumbling her own greeting.

He talks to her as they stroll around the court. He points out things and laughs while he chats to her, completely comfortable in her near silence. When he nudges her with his elbow, smiling, she laughs. And it's such a sight that my heart swells. I also think I might cry. The boy leads her to a group of kids in wheelchairs, both boys and girls, and introduces her to them. They all smile and talk to her, and to my absolute shock, she smiles and talks back. This was a great idea.

Felicity breaks my thoughts with, "Let's take a seat; they're about to start." We all move to sit, but I notice Willa's missing. I spy her at the side of the court, fingers hooked into the wire fence, watching James like a love-sick puppy as he instruct the kids.

He calls out, "You know what to do, guys." He points to Ceecee's new friend and says, "Sam, I'm leaving Ceecee in your charge. Show her how things go, but take it easy on her. You've got ten minutes of free ball time before I blow the whistle," he grins, "then it's on!"

The kids cheer and clap before they disband, grabbing basketb.a.l.l.s and playing with each other. I'm not even a little surprised when Sam leads Ceecee to the other side of the court, bouncing the ball to her and explaining how things go, watching her all the while. I am, however, surprised when Felicity gasps, "Oh my G.o.d! Look, look, look!"

James joins Willa on the opposite side of the fence. His fingers linked into the fence, dangerously close to hers. My eyes widen. "I told her he liked her!"

Max looks over at the fence. "Who likes who?"

Felicity fills him in. "We've been pushing Willa and Whit together for a week solid. She loves him and he likes her. He's just fighting it, like men do." She bunches her nose and looks at Max. "Why do men do that?"

He swallows hard, looking away, letting out a strained, "No idea." He shakes his head and looks to me. "But I thought he liked you."

I raise a brow at him and scrunch my face in my famous are-you-crazy look. "What? We're friends; that's all. We flirt a little," I look back to him meaningfully and bat my lashes, "but there's no harm in a little flirting. Is there, Max?"

Felicity immediately gets my jab, tipping her head back and roaring with laughter. "Ooh, she got you good."

He looks down at our entwined hands and murmurs, "I don't flirt no more."

I snort. "Yeah, I know. Not even with me!" I side-eye him and ask quietly, "Why don't you ever flirt with me? You never did, right from the beginning."

He plays with my fingers a moment before looking up and stating, "Because I think you deserve better than that." He leans forward and kisses my temple. "A woman like you deserves real words, not pretty words that don't mean nothin'." He says this so sincerely that my heart skips a beat.

c.r.a.p. I wasn't expecting an answer like that. I lean into lips and he presses another soft kiss to my temple.

Felicity watches us closely, her face crumbling. "Oh my G.o.d. It's finally happened." She fans her face, blinking rapidly. "Someone took the flirt out of Max Leokov," she sniffles, "and it was my friend who did it." She blinks away tears. "I'm so proud."

I reach over and shove at her shoulder. "Shut up, Flick."

Watching Ceecee, I mutter to no one in particular, "Would you look at how happy she is? I don't think I've seen her smile this much since I got here."

Max puts his arm around my shoulder and agrees, "She's loving it. And it's all because of you. You're the best thing that's happened to her." He places his lips at my ear and whispers, "To me, too."

My chest pangs. Lip curling, I turn and smack at his chest. "Stop it. Just don't."

The look of shock on his face is adorable. The a.s.shole. He holds his arms out and shrugs, "What'd I say now?"

I shake my head, anger easing out of me, leaning into him once more. He just gave me a speech on not using words for fun. It's not fair for him to say something like that to me when he doesn't mean it. Both of his arms come around me, squeezing me tight, and I bask in the warmth of him.

Lord knows, I won't have it forever.

Watching Ceecee squeal with laughter and smile so much is the highlight of year. My own cheeks hurt from smiling while watching her during the basketball game-if a basketball game is what you'd call it. It was more forty-five minutes of kids in wheelchairs steal the ball from each other and speed away from the others while they tried to catch the person who had the ball. Every now and again, James would run onto the court, s.n.a.t.c.h the ball, and run around, laughing as they made chase.

He was right. Ceecee loved it. And she made friends. I saw her exchanging phone numbers with her new friends, but I saw the special light she had in her eyes for Sam. True, he isn't in a wheelchair full-time, but I'm guessing whatever caused his injury meant he was in a wheelchair for a long while before he walked again. And as much as Ceecee had eyes for him, he had eyes for her. I saw how his face fell watching her go. I believed Ceecee might've been experiencing her first crush.

On the way home, I turned in my seat and asked Ceecee a long, drawn out, "So?"

She smiled. "It was okay." She shrugged nonchalantly. "I guess."

The little sneak. Nodding, I turned, facing the road, and asked a bored, "What do you think about going again next Sat.u.r.day?"

She hesitated a moment before responding, "That might be cool."