Sugar Rush (Friend-Zoned #3)(82)
Author: Belle Aurora

I place the nachos in the middle of the table and reach over to his plate to snatch one of the most perfect looking chicken enchiladas I have ever seen. Max watches in shock as I steal from his plate. Bunching his nose, he reaches over to my plate and steals one of my steak fajitas in retaliation.

I smile over at him and wink. Little does he know, I am not Nat. Sharing food makes me happy. Nat would cut a bitch for stealing off her plate. I cut a piece of enchilada and pop it into my mouth. The fresh, spiced flavor is amazing. I moan and close my eyes. It’s only when my eyes flutter open that I realize Max is talking.

“I’m sorry. What?”

He grins. “I asked you if you left a guy back home.”

He’s asking me if I had a boyfriend back home? Why the sudden interest? Don’t read too much into it, numbskull. Shaking my head slowly, I cut at the enchilada for a second bite. “No. I didn’t have time to date back home, and I never planned on dating here. I suppose I could have dated back home, but then where would that leave the guy? Probably in a corner.” Like Baby in Dirty Dancing. “My job comes first, and as long as I’m building up my hours, I think it would be unfair to commit to someone, knowing they’d have little to no time with me.”

Max looks down at his plate, confusion written all over his face. I ask a long, drawn out, “What?”

Lifting his face, brows still furrowed, he replies softly, “I think whatever amount of your time you could give a guy, he’d be grateful for.” He holds my eyes. “He’d be a lucky man to have you, cupcake. Even for a minute.”

Oh shit. That was deep and sweet and freaking adorable. My heart pounds in time with my head. I’m in trouble. Stop it, Max! I’m not meant to love you!

If he’s venturing into deep water, I feel as I thought I should be meeting him halfway. “Tell me about Ceecee’s mom.”

He immediately stiffens. “No.”

My brows rise at the hatred in his voice. “Uh, okay.”

We eat in silence for a little while as I give him the few minutes to calm down before I notice him deflate. His shoulders slump and jaw tight, he mutters, “Sorry. She’s a sore subject.”

I nod. “Understandable.” The silence between us is so thick it’s becoming awkward. And I’ve not had an awkward moment with Max since we’ve been dating. I don’t like it. Reaching over the table, I rest my hand on his forearm. “We don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to. But if you need someone to talk to, I’m here with open ears.”

His eyes dart from the hand on his arm then up to my face, searching. He looks suspiciously toward me. “That’s it? No ‘I asked you, so you gotta tell me’ or ‘Fine, we’re done’ bullshit?”

I’m sure the expression on my face screams affronted. “I prefer you happy, and I can see talking about this is having the opposite effect. So, no.”

His eyes close, once again pained as he mutters under his breath. “She prefers me happy. She cancels her own surprise for wheelchair basketball. She doesn’t care about the waitress.” He lifts his eyes heavenward. “Why are you doing this to me?”

Um, okay then. “What are you talking about?”

Max smiles. It’s forced. I know this, because it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Nothing.” He holds out a hand and I place my own in it. He lifts it to his mouth and kisses it. “Just glad I’m here. With you.” He kisses my knuckles a second time. “No place I’d rather be.”

I smile softly. “Ditto.”

Dinner only gets better from that point. Max and I eat, talk, and laugh most of the night, and when it comes time to leave, he leaves a more than decent tip for poor, sweet Kate. I’d like to say my sympathy runs deep, but I’d be lying. I am more than happy to be the one going home with Max. Ecstatic, really.

Like a gentleman, he opens the car door for me and sees me inside. We drive back to my apartment, and from the moment we step outside of the car, we can’t keep our hands off of each other. Reaching up, he hooks a hand behind my neck, pulling me closer, and then his lips come down to mine.

And I melt into him. The kiss is deep and sweet. My knees turn to jelly and my core clenches tighter than ever. His lips are soft, softer than I imagined, and the smell of his cologne makes my head swim.

My mouth waters. God, he’s delicious.

A total DILF.

We can’t keep our lips to ourselves the entire way upstairs. When we reach my apartment, I unlock the door, lips firmly attached to his, and we step inside, closing the door behind us. His arms wind around me, holding me tight, leading me toward my bedroom, when something comes to mind.

Separating from him, I step back, delighted in the small growl that escapes him. I walk backward to the kitchen, unbuttoning my jeans as I do, smiling sexily. I slowly lower my zipper, hook my thumbs into the waistband, and push my jeans down my legs. Stepping out of them, I move to the counter.

I see the exact moment he understands. Fire lights in his eyes, and suddenly, he rips at his clothes. I chuckle softly as he fights with his belt buckle. In the sudden excitement, he’s become clumsy. He kicks his shoes off, leaning down and hopping on the spot to remove his socks. He lowers his jeans halfway, then takes a step, tripping over them. He rights himself, pulling his shirt over his head, forgetting the buttons and having it get stuck around his neck. He pulls, tugs, and yanks until he’s finally free and nearly naked.

My silky tan tank is easily removed, and then I’m only in my cream lace bra and matching French-cut panties. Which is fine, because Max is dressed only in black and white checkered boxers. He palms his erection as he walks over to me. Eyes hooded with lust, he admits, “I don’t think I can hold back.”

Reaching behind me, I undo my bra, letting it fall down my arms. “I don’t want you to.”

He squeezes his cock tight through his boxers. “It might be rough.”

Making a show of it, I slide my panties down my thighs, letting them go at the knee. They fall to the ground. “I love rough.”

He eyes my body appreciatively, then mutters unconsciously, “You make me crazy.”

I love the way he looks at me. “You make my body burn.”

One more step and he’s in front of me, looking down at me. He leans down, pushing my back into the side of the counter, and takes my lips in a feral kiss before spinning me around and pushing his front into my back. The hard warmth of his body gives me goose bumps. Reaching around, he takes my hands and places them on the counter. “Don’t move.”