Sugar Rush (Friend-Zoned #3)(79)
Author: Belle Aurora

Nat sighs. “I’m not going to tell them. Relax, Max. But it would’ve been nice for you to tell me yourself and for me not to have found out through the youngest Kovac spawn.” She smiles softly and I know Nina is apologizing to her, probably by calling her a moron for not working it out sooner. “So I hear you’ve got yourself a girl, huh? What’s her name?” Nat laughs. “Amelia. Nice. Sounds like she’s a real lady.” She grins. “So does that make you the man in the relationship?” Her smile falls. “Hello? Nina?” She holds up her cell, looking irate. “Bitch hung up on me!”

I shrug and tip my head slightly. “Calling a woman a man will do that.”

Nat stares down at the phone as if it offends her, and even though she’s acting like a turd, I know she’s happy to be in the know. Maybe Nat finding out isn’t so bad. Pushing her cell back into her pocket, she mumbles through a pout, “Sensitive beaver-eating mole.”

Uh, yeah. Okay. Maybe not.

***

Helena

When Max told me he and I were going out on a date, I prepared myself for the best date ever. That was my first mistake. My second mistake was building it up in my head. And when I say I built it up, I mean I made it into the freaking Eiffel tower. Then he came to pick me up dressed in dark jeans, a black button-up shirt untucked, his white sneakers, and his too-long-to-be-tamed hair carefully tousled, and my heart let out a long, dreamy sigh.

By that point, my engine was already revving. I sashayed over to him, smiling innocently, like a wolf in sheep’s clothing, hoping for a taste of what was to come later in the night. His bright smile faltered when I pressed myself against him, leaning up to kiss under his jaw, letting my hand linger on the silver belt buckle at the waist of his jeans.

He cleared his throat before he rasped, “What are you doing, cupcake?”

Of course he could see right through me. I wasn’t hiding what I wanted from him. Not in the slightest. My light jeans a contrast to his dark ones, I pushed my breasts into his chest (thank the lord for high heels), my silky tan tank brushing deliciously over my stomach, spurring me further, and breathed, “Having dessert.”

His arms went around me then, one firmly wrapped around my back, pulling me devastatingly close, while the other hand slid down my body, over the curve of my hip to cup my butt. He made a low noise of arousal in his throat, and the hand splayed on my cheek squeezed. “We’re gonna be late for dinner.”

I pouted, looking up at him with what Nat calls my Bambi eyes. I had practiced this look growing up. The time spent practicing clearly paid off. There was little I would ask for that my parents would say no to when I pulled these babies out. I lifted my fingers, spacing them an inch apart. “Not even a little play?”

He looked down at me with those liquid golden eyes and I knew I had him. He sighed dramatically before kissing my mouth, and he didn’t do it half-assed. He never did. He kissed me deep, taking his time, tasting me. “How can I say no to you?” Grinning, I lowered myself, slow and sexy, ‘til I knelt in front of him. He looked down at me questioningly, and then I reached up to undo his belt. His eyes widened a moment before he broke into a grin. “Rock’n’roll, baby.”

He lifted his shirt a little to help me out. It took no time at all to unbutton him and lower his zipper, and then with a swift yank, his jeans and boxer were around his knees. He was only semi-erect, but still looking too big and much too thick to fit entirely in my mouth. I wrapped my fingers around him, ignoring Max’s hiss, then looked up into his eyes.

I knew men liked that. I had been friends with a guy in college, a total horn-dog, who once told me that guys loved when a woman was on her knees, looking up at them innocently. Even more so when the woman was wearing lipstick, apparently any color would do. He also told me that men loved when a woman maintained eye contact during a blowjob. I was about to test that theory.

Max looked down at me, eyes hooded, mouth slightly parted. It was always like this with him. He had no poker face. He wore his heart on his sleeve, and I loved that.

I loved him.

This was still not something I was willing to put out there. Hell, I didn’t know if I ever wanted to put it out there. I knew it was too soon. I knew it would freak the fuck out of Max. I decided to work on him slowly. If I spooked him, he’d run. I couldn’t lose him. He was already part of me. So was Ceecee. I was done fighting it.

Max was my one exception. He was likely one of the only men out there who would not only support my work choice, but also be proud of me for doing it. And if long hours and weekends were shot, I know he would understand. After all, his work at the club was not during the most convenient hours either. But I was willing to deal.

I was happy keeping my secret, and would do whatever it took for it to remain that way. The only person I would have to careful around was Nik. The man saw everything.

Max gently reached down, cupping my cheek with one hand, while lifting my long hair over my shoulder with the other. I looked up once more, holding his heavy cock, gently kissing the head. Blinking, I whispered, “So big.”

He gripped my chin, his lips twisting into a small, sexy smile as he rumbled, “You like it, baby? Say you like my cock.”

It wasn’t really a request. It was a demand. My core clenched and I licked the sensitive underside. Speaking against his throbbing length, I sighed softly, “I love it.” I love you.

My lips parted, and with him guiding me by his hold on my chin, I took in what I could of him. But it wasn’t easy. For the amount of smart-assing and shit-talking we manage, my sisters and I have quite the small mouths. Curse it to heck.

Opening my mouth wide, I took in a little more, sucking him deep. Max threw his head back, one hand at my chin, the other now fisting the hair at my nape. At the slight pain, I moaned around him, and his fingers tightened around the loose strands of my hair as he gently thrust in and out of my mouth.

At one point, he thrust a little too hard without meaning to and I gagged. Imagine my shock when that only fueled Max’s fire. The dirty fucker.

I knew the exact moment he lost control. His hooded eyes trained on where my mouth wrapped around his cock and he growled, a low, animalistic sound I was starting to love to hear, and I heard it every time I put my hands on him. I was wetter than I should have been. Giving head shouldn’t be that much of a turn on, right? Regardless, I was soaked, and even though I wanted him inside me, I would settle for watching Max lose control, because watching Max lose control was becoming my most favorite thing to witness.