34. Christa

For the firsttime in a week, I was sleeping peacefully, and there was no alcohol involved. At least, I was sleeping peacefully. Right now, my phone was ringing, destroying the calm I had found after a week of havoc.

“What?” I groaned, rolling over in bed and pulling the covers up.

“Fista?”

“Huh?”

“Uh…Whista?”

I sat up, brushing the hair from my face. “Who is this?”

“Scottie. I’m uh…I work with Max.”

Max. I did not need to hear his name first thing in the morning. I clenched my legs together and repeated that in my head. “And?”

“Uh…Are you the woman he’s been dating?”

That was a terrible term for what we were doing. “No, goodbye.”

I hung up and flopped back on the bed. Max. The last thing I needed was to think about the man who had turned my life upside down, and not in a good way. Since he entered the picture, it was absolute chaos. I needed normal. Only then would I find my path.

This time, when the phone rang, I refused to answer—for a whole ten seconds.

“What?”

“Okay, I admit that I don’t know your name, but I really need your help.”

“With what?”

“Max.”

“Sorry, but that’s not gonna happen.”

“Wait! Don’t hang up. I seriously need you. He seriously needs you.”

I snorted at that. “Max doesn’t need anyone. He’s perfectly happy on his own.”

“Yeah? How do you know that?”

How did I know that? Because of everything he revealed at my house. I tried to block it from my mind over the past few days, and I was doing a pretty damn good job of it. I had actually gone a whole six hours without thinking about him. Of course, I was asleep, but that didn’t matter. It still counted.

“Look, it’s—” I grabbed the alarm clock off the nightstand and squinted at the gigantic numbers, sure I was reading them wrong. “It’s not even seven in the morning!”

“I realize that.” I could hear the regret in his voice, which made me feel slightly bad for the man. “Look, we just got back from a job and it was bad. I could really use your help.”

“What happened?” I asked curiously. “Did someone die?”

“Uh…yeah.”

“Seriously?” But then I remembered what Cash told me. They didn’t work in construction. They were all ex-military. And if a job went wrong, that had to be devastating to Max. I knew getting involved was a bad idea, but I was never one to turn from a person in need. My parents taught us to think of others, and unfortunately, it was a trait that never left me.

“Look, Whista?—”

“It’s Christa,” I grumbled.

“That makes so much more sense,” he muttered. “Look, I know this sucks, but he really needs someone, and I think that’s you.”

Sighing, I already knew what my answer would be. He didn’t have to say another word. “Fine, give me a few minutes. Where are you?”

“The bar you met him at.”

Of course, he was.

I hung up and used the bathroom, then quickly dressed. I thought about grabbing coffee, but if this was serious, I needed to get moving. In just a few minutes, I was out the door and on my way down the road. Despite the situation, I was actually glad to be up and awake at this hour for once. After a week of waking up drunk, I was done with that. I needed stability in my life again. I needed to find something I really wanted and go for it.

And as I pulled into the bar, I had an idea of what I might do.

A man stepped outside and waved to me as I got out of my car. “Christa?”

“Yes.”

He looked me up and down, and smiled.

“Eww, are you hitting on me?”

“No!” His face slackened in shock. “God, no. Sorry, I’m married. I just—I was looking at you—not checking you out,” he clarified, “—because I see what Max sees in you.”

I walked past him, but he got to the door first. “How could you possibly see what Max sees in me? You don’t even know me?”

His grin said he knew something I didn’t. The door opened and music hit my ears at an octave way too loud for this early in the morning. Max was doing some kind of dance around the bar as a song played from the jukebox.

“He hasn’t stopped listening to this since I arrived. He said it reminds him of you.”

My eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Me?”

“That’s what he said.”

“This song reminds him of me? I don’t see it.”

He shrugged. “Well, tell him that. Anyway, I gotta go. Here are the keys,” he said, tossing them at me.

I barely caught them, shocked that he was leaving me here with Max. “What?”

“Lock up when you leave.”

“But—” I stumbled after him. “I can’t just take the keys!”

“Why not?”

“Uh…because it’s not my bar. And I don’t know anything about locking up.”

He nodded, walking closer to me. He grabbed one key and held it up. “See this thing?” I nodded. “It’s a key. You stick it in the lock outside and turn it until you hear the click. If you’ve done it right, you won’t be able to open the door.”

I shot him an irritated look. “Seriously?”

He cocked a grin at me. “You’ll fit in just fine around here.”

And then he turned and walked away. No more instructions, no help getting the drunken man out to the car. Nope, it was all on me.

Taking a deep breath, I turned back to Max and slowly made my way over. I didn’t know what I was going to say to him. We hadn’t left things in the best way the last time we were together. It turned out, I didn’t need to think about what I was going to say. As soon as he saw me, he turned and rushed over to me.

“Baby, you gotta dance with me.”

He pulled me into his arms and started dancing a little too quickly for the music, but he had his hat on, along with his sunglasses, and he looked like he was having the best time ever.

“Max—”

“Can you feel it?”

“Feel what?”

“The music. Doesn’t it make you want to get away from it all?”

“Uh—”

Before I could answer, he spun me, then pulled me back in for a dip. I nearly fell over as he stumbled. I could smell the alcohol wafting off him. It was like he bathed in it.

“Max, maybe we should sit.”

“Sit?” He threw his head back and laughed. “Why would we sit when we’re on island time?”

At least he was a happy drunk. “Maybe we should discuss what happened.”

He stopped suddenly and his face went slack. “Why? What happened?”

“The person who died,” I said hesitantly.

He stumbled slightly and I gripped his biceps.

Holy hell. I forgot how hot this man is. His biceps are solid rock! I can’t even wrap half my hand around one. This is seriously amazing!

“Why would you want to talk about that?”

Right, back to what’s important. Not his biceps. As amazing as those are, that’s not why I’m here. “Because I think it’s affected you, and maybe it would help to talk about it.”

His lips quirked up as he started swaying again to the music. “Nothing can bother me when I’m on island time. Do you want a drink?”

“Uh, I think you’ve had enough.”

He laughed again. He did that a lot. “Actually, I’m just getting started!”

He started to walk away, so I grabbed his arm and pulled him back. “Don’t you want to go home? We could sit down and talk.”

“Talk? Why would I want to talk? Island time is all about not talking.”

“Okay, but…” I was running out of ways to get him to leave. And the only thing I could think about wasn’t on the table. Unless… “Scottie said that this song reminds you of me. Why is that?”

He pulled me against his body and rested his chin on top of my head as we swayed to the music. “It’s peaceful,” he sighed. “I’m on island time when I’m with you.”

That had to be the sweetest thing I’d ever heard, but I had to wonder if he even knew what he was saying. He was drunk, and we hadn’t known each other that long. Maybe this was all a result of what happened on the job.

“Max, I really?—”

“You know what we need? Breakfast shots!” He nodded at me excitedly, then grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the bar. But instead of going behind it, he shoved a door open and dragged me into the kitchen.

“Max, this isn’t the bar.”

“I know. We need bacon.”

“Bacon? For what?”

“For the shots, silly.”

He rushed over to grab a pan hanging from the ceiling, but couldn’t grab it in his uncoordinated state. He climbed up on top of the cooking island and grabbed the rack on the ceiling. It swayed under his weight and when he started to fall, the whole thing came crashing down. Pans scattered across the floor and on top of Max as he held up the one pan he needed.

Sighing, I walked over to him and helped him to his feet, then took the pan out of his hands. “Tell me what you want and I’ll make it. I don’t trust you with a pan right now.”

“Bacon!” he laughed. “But I got this.”

“Yeah, somehow, I don’t think the owner would agree with you. Didn’t this place just burn down a few years ago?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he rushed around the island to the fridge, kicking multiple pans along the way. “You know what would go so good with these?”

“A greasy meal to sober you up?”

He burst out laughing, then rushed back over with the bacon in hand. “A little Hawaiian music. Some grass skirts and a cigar!”

“I don’t eat grass skirts.”

“Man, you kill me,” he chuckled.

I grabbed the bacon from his hands and turned to the stove. If he wanted these drinks, I was going to make them. I didn’t need a lawsuit on my hands. As a bonus, I’d make him a good breakfast and, hopefully, sober him up.

As soon as I got the bacon on, I turned around to find the space empty. Panic tore through me as I considered all the damage he could do if I wasn’t watching him. I was just about to run out to the bar when he came waltzing through with his arms filled with liquor bottles and shot glasses.

“What’s all that?”

“Everything we’ll need for our drink. Irish Whiskey, Butterscotch Schnapps, Orange juice, and bacon on top.”

It sounded disgusting to me. “Well, you mix that up while I work on some food.”

“Food,” he frowned. “Any chance you could mix up some steak in a blender?”

“Why?”

He shrugged. “Cuz I like the liquid diet.”

There was no way I was doing any of that. I quickly got to work, whipping up breakfast as quickly as possible.

“You look so fucking sexy.”

“Max, that’s not going to happen. Forget about it.”

“You and me, baby,” he grumbled, stepping up behind me. “That’s the way it’s supposed to be.”

“I thought you didn’t believe in supposed to be?” I asked, looking over my shoulder at him.

He bit down on my shoulder, sliding his hands under my arms to my front. I wasn’t at all surprised when he cupped my breasts in his hands and groaned. “You thought of forever with him. Why not me?”

“Because we don’t want the same things,” I argued pitifully. “You…have to stop,” I panted, fighting the warm feelings tingling through my body, and his roaming hands. Fuck, it was hard to concentrate when he was touching me.

“How can I stop touching you? You were all I thought about when I was gone. You’re fucking with my head.”

I gasped when his hand cupped my rear before sliding between my legs. My hands shot out for support and I nearly burned myself on the hot pan.

“Max—”

He grabbed me and spun me around, pressing me against the counter. All I could think about was how close we were to the stove, but I lost all train of thought as his hands quickly got to work unbuttoning my jeans. “Max,” I said breathlessly, trying my best to fight him, knowing it wouldn’t work.

My eyes rolled back in my head as he pulled down my jeans and skimmed his nose down my belly. I stretched out my hand, flipping off the stove just as he pulled down my panties and spread my legs. His tongue flicked over my clit and I tossed my head back, letting out a scream.

“Come on me, baby. Fuck, I want your juices sliding down my throat.”

His dirty talk made my core pulse. I slid my fingers into his hair and pulled him tight to my pussy. Fuck, he even had me thinking dirty things about my body parts. I rode his face, using him for pleasure. It was so wrong, but felt so right.

“Fuck, baby. Just a little more. My cock needs to be inside you, feeling you squeeze me so tight.”

“Max!” I shouted, coming hard all over him.

In seconds, he had me up on the counter and he was shoving his thick, hard cock inside me. I cried out, barely holding on as he pummeled me over and over again. My legs trembled and my heart pounded. It was going to crack in half, I just knew it. I wanted Max. I knew that much was true. Time away from him hadn’t dulled my attraction to him in the slightest, and even though I tried to tell myself this was for the best, I knew there was no way I could stay away from him, not when he lit my body on fire like this.

“Max!” I cried out, coming hard, shattering in his arms.

“Baby,” he whispered, running his lips over my face, brushing kisses everywhere. His lips connected with mine again in a slow, sensuous kiss that brought tears to my eyes. I had to break this pull to him or I would get crushed.

“Fuck, baby. You bring me to my knees every time.”

And things like that didn’t make this any easier. I pushed back from him, needing my space. “I need to finish breakfast.”

“The bacon.” He chuckled, leaning over to the pan, plucking it out of the hot grease. “Ooh, fuck, that’s hot,” he said, tossing it on the counter.

I hopped down, grabbing my pants off the floor. “This is so unsanitary.”

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll lick the counter clean.”

“Don’t even—” I spun around and found him licking my cum from the counter. He turned to me with a wicked grin. “I love the way you taste.”

I wanted to be disgusted, but seeing him like that only rekindled the desire swirling in my belly. I needed a drink. I grabbed the bottle of whiskey and poured myself a shot. It didn’t matter that it was early in the morning or that it wasn’t my whiskey to take. I needed alcohol to deal with this man.

Wincing at the burn, I took a deep breath and got back to work on breakfast, studiously ignoring the sexy man at my back. He kept wrapping his arms around my waist and kissing my neck. It was impossible to concentrate. I grabbed another shot when I managed to pry his wandering hands from my body, and this time, he joined me.

“Alright, breakfast,” I said, focusing when the room swayed. How many drinks did I have?

I giggled, grabbing plates off the shelf. Man, this was not a good way to start looking for a job. “Here,” I said, sliding his plate across to him. There were a ton of eggs and lots of bacon. I probably made too much, but I was focusing on getting food in his belly.

“Come sit with me,” he chuckled, tugging on my arm. I plopped down on his lap, loving the way he settled his hand across my belly. His fingers played with my belly button under my shirt, and it warmed something inside me just to have him touching me so casually.

“So, the drink,” he chuckled.

I hadn’t even noticed that he’d already poured them. “What are these called?” I lifted the glass and studied the contents. It didn’t look too dangerous.

“Breakfast shot.”

“Who would want shots for breakfast?”

“Haven’t you already had a few?” he murmured in my ear. His hand continued to gently caress my belly. There was no better feeling in the world than his hands on me. I found myself leaning back against his shoulder, just enjoying the feel of his skin against mine.

“Bottoms up, baby.”

I grabbed my own shot, tossing it back. It was…potent. “Holy crap,” I choked out.

“Good, huh? And you know the best part?”

I shook my head.

He poured both of us another shot and grabbed a slice of bacon. “Nothing like eating pork in the morning.” His voice rumbled in my ear as he brought the bacon strip to his mouth and sucked the liquor off. “Is this turning you on, baby?”

I burst out laughing. “Aren’t I supposed to be the one doing that?”

“Give it a shot.”

“I can’t—that’s so inappropriate!” But my better judgment flew out the window at least two shots ago. I picked up the bacon and dunked it in the shot. Turning in his arms, I brought the bacon to my lips and slowly sucked it into my mouth. “Like this?”

His eyes darkened and his tongue shot out, running over his lips. “Take the shot,” he rumbled.

I picked it up and licked the rim, then tossed it back. His lips were on mine before I even swallowed the drink. His thick cock pressed against me, messing with my already muddled brain. I could think of nothing more than him being inside me again.

But he had the same idea, stripping me bare in a matter of seconds. Then his mouth was on me, feasting on my pussy. I slapped a hand over my mouth at what I just thought. It was so wrong, but what he was doing was so right.

“Max,” I said breathlessly. “Shouldn’t I be doing that to you?”

He popped up, his eyes hazy and unfocused. “I’m still a little gun shy. Give the little guy time to recover. We don’t want him to have a bout of PTSD.”

I chuckled, but gasped when his mouth returned to me. My legs quivered, my entire body shook, and my head was perfectly muted from all the negative thoughts about why I shouldn’t be doing this. I was floating on a cloud of pure bliss, and nothing could ruin this moment for me.

I came hard, my orgasm intensified by the alcohol flowing through my veins. Or maybe it was the man between my legs. He was so amazing at this, and for some reason, he thought I was good in bed. It was the other way around.

His tongue swirled over my leg, up my hip, and then dipped into my belly button. He stared at me intently, with the evidence of my arousal coating his lips. He was so handsome. I couldn’t stop staring at him.

“Let’s get married.”

“Huh?” I sat up suddenly, not quite sure I heard him.

“You know, me and you and a bunch of drinks. Woohoo!”

“That’s not?—”

“You know you want to. It’ll be so amazing,” he grinned, leaning down and pressing more kisses to my body.

Somewhere in the cloudy haze of alcohol, a realistic person still lingered. “Max, people get married when they want a future together. You don’t want to even think about the future.”

“Who needs to think about the future when I have a woman like you in my arms?”

The answer should have been Me. But as I stared at him, so happy and full of life, I wanted to grab on and never let go. “Why would you want to marry me?”

He tugged me up against his chest, pressing his face into my boobs. His lips roamed over the swell of my breasts, then latched onto a nipple. I gasped, digging my fingers into his hair.

“Just think about how good it would be. I would wake up to you every morning with my head between your legs, and every night, I’d fuck you hard and slow.”

He painted such an orgasmic picture. And I had just enough alcohol flowing through my veins to figure this was a pretty damn good idea.

“Just think about it. Me and you and a beach with a couple of Mai Tais. I’d hold you in my arms as we swayed to the ocean rolling along the coast. We’d get married at sunset with the gentle breeze flowing through your hair. Just think about how amazing it would be.”

I closed my eyes, dreamily imagining just what he was saying. And he was right. It sounded amazing.

He tilted his head up and stared into my eyes. “What do you say, baby? Be my wife.”