Chapter 6

Winnie

T hankfully it’s dark enough in Max’s room that he can’t see I’m suddenly flushed as hell.

“I mean, not that there’s an us, but you know what I mean.”

“There’s an us.” His voice is coarse with sleep and his words bristle over my skin like an unexpected caress.

“I mean,” I clear my throat. “Not like…”

“First,” he says, scooting over in his bed and pulling his covers back, “get in here and get warm. You’re shivering. And second,” he puts his arm around me as I slip into the warmth of his bed, pulling me against him, “there’s an us.”

“I just meant, it’s not like we’re a couple or anything,” I clarify, because we’re not.

My friends-with-benefitsship with Max began quite innocently. I’m affectionate with all the Hammers, obviously. But then, last Christmas, we were alone in the kitchen of the ski lodge we all rented in Aspen. I’d been trying to put something in the sink, but Max had stood in the way.

“Could you move?”

He’d smirked. “What’s it worth to you?”

The wine had been flowing and he was tipsy. I had thought that he was just trying to be difficult. When tipsy, Max tends to get obstinate.

“Max, move.”

He’d lifted his chin and tapped his cheek with his fingertip. “Say please and give me a kiss.”

“Please.” I’d risen on my tiptoes to press my lips against his dimple.

But he’d turned his head.

And everything and nothing changed between us.

Every day since, I’ve cautioned myself that he did not intentionally brush his mouth across mine. That he did not actually mean for me to kiss him in a romantic way.

But ever since, at least a couple times a month when we can steal a few moments alone, we hook up.

There are two rules of our PG-rated arrangement.

Rule One, mine: Our clothes stay on.

Rule Two, his (though technically, his rule came first, and was the reason for Rule One in the first place): No one ever finds out, especially not his brothers .

Part of me wonders if he wants to keep us a secret because he’s ashamed that he’s at least somewhat attracted to me. Especially since he’s never even nudged the boundaries I set, mostly because I think after all the flawless bodies he’s had in bed, he would be mildly repulsed to see me naked.

Well, at least with you gettin’ fat I don’t have to worry about anyone knocking you up.

My dad’s voice, which I’ve been hearing more and more since we rolled back into Smithville.

“Hey,” Max says. “It will be okay. Maybe Mason bought your Harry Styles story. Although, please, dear God, tell me Harry Styles is not actually your type.”

I snort. I’d break poor Harry in two.

“Oh, yes. If I ever meet Harry, you and I are done.” I bite my lip. “We kind of have to be done, anyway, right?”

He props himself up on one elbow and looks down at me. Then he reaches over me to flick on the bedside lamp.

“You serious? I mean, about us being done. Obviously not about Harry ‘cause I’d kick that scrawny punk’s ass if he as much as glanced at you.”

I sigh. “Max. Come on. Mason, PI is not going to drop this. You know how he is. He’ll keep digging until he gets to the truth. Everyone is going to find out.”

I love Mason but I also know he is utterly incapable of letting anything go.

“We,” he says, pausing to kiss my forehead, the tip of my nose, my lips, “are far from over. I’ll tell Mason everything in the morning and I’ll swear him to secrecy. It’ll all be fine. ”

“But…” I pause.

“But what?” He’s playing with my hair, winding a curl around his fingers, and it’s distracting.

“But…” I drop my voice to a whisper. “You didn’t want anyone to know we’ve been hooking up.”

“And no one will,” he says. “Trust me, I’ve got some dirt on Mason, that he doesn’t want any of the others to know. He’ll keep my dirt–”

I recoil. “Your dirt? Is that what I am? Your dirt?”

“Hey, I didn’t mean it like that.”

But my mouth has gone dry. “Why are you dead set against anyone discovering our little arrangement then?” I choke out.

“It would make things incredibly awkward, don’t you think? Besides, I like having something that’s just ours. Don’t you?”

I can’t deny that I do. But if Max Hammer was my man, I would be shouting it from the rooftops. Would he be just as proud? I can’t make myself believe he would.

I feel sick all of a sudden, and I want to go back to my own room, but I’m a masochist, clearly, because I want Max’s comfort more.

“If this ever turned into anything more than what it is, we would definitely tell everyone,” Max says, his hand trailing down to my stomach. I suck in. “But you don’t want that. I mean, you don’t even want to have sex with me.”

I nearly choke on my lung as it dislodges itself from my chest and pushes into my throat. Or at least that’s what it feels like.

All I’ve been thinking about for the past week is having sex with you, Maxwell .

This is, in fact, the opening I’ve been waiting for. I open my mouth to say the words. To tell him the truth. My pulse is thrumming in my ears and… other places.

Max, you were my first kiss.

It was during a game of spin the bottle during some party when we were in high school.

It’s only fitting that you be my first… everything… right?

“You’ve never indicated to me that you want that, either,” I say quietly. “To have sex.” Then like a dork, I add, “With me.”

Because obviously he’s been having sex with someone. Multiple someones. I don’t know. Like with Jack with Cynthia, and the others with their various dalliances, I try not to think about it too much. But certainly what we do isn’t enough to scratch his itches.

“You must not have been paying attention,” he says, huskily. “But if you’re into it, I’ll gladly indicate it to you now.”

YESSSSS!

Maybe this is the way it should happen. Without talking about it, dissecting it, weighing the pros and cons. Just let it happen naturally.

Usually, we end dry humping until I can’t take anymore. He’s never seen me come. Instead, I hold out until I can get back to my own bed where I finish myself off with my Max dildo.

Yes, I have a dildo named after each of the brothers. I don’t know for sure that the toys are even close to the length or girth of the real things, and it doesn’t really matter because I named them after how they make me feel. Though I of course went big with all of them. I know that with Max, the size is accurate. Mason, as well, if they’re as identical as they appear .

This time, when we get to the point that I usually end it, I’ll whisper, Don’t stop.

Tonight, it’ll be the real thing.

I let Max know I’m definitely in the mood as I reach over to turn the light back off. I do have to swat his hand away when he runs it along my ass, at least until I have hidden all of my dimples – which are not in my cheeks and adorable, like his – under the cover of darkness.

“Hell, yes,” he growls, once I slide back under the covers beside him. He pulls me against him, cupping my ass through my pajama shorts, squeezing, as he finds my mouth and claims it with his. This isn’t how my Losing My Virginity With Max fantasy starts, but I’ll take it.

I reach for him under the covers and my hand brushes along the front of his skin tight boxers. He’s hard as a rock under the soft cotton already.

When my touch makes him shudder, and kiss me harder, I grow bolder than I’ve ever been in my life, and slide my hands under his waistband.

I want him. Now.

But before I can get his boxers down, he has me on my back, and he’s kissing me senseless, one thumb tracing circles across the silky fabric of my tank top, sending electrical bursts from my nipples throughout my body. The other thumb traces a long, slow line between my legs.

With a surprised moan, I arch into him. He sits up, hooks his fingers in my waistband, and looks into my eyes.

“Is this okay, Win?”

“More than okay,” I whisper .

“Good.”

I don’t have a chance to be embarrassed that I’m going to be naked – with Max Hammer! – before he peels off my pajama shorts followed by my panties, and replaces them with his gorgeous mouth.

In the last few months, I’ve had more than my fair share of Max’s kisses. Sneaky teaser kisses quickly dropped on my shoulder when no one was looking. Soft, sensual kisses drawn along the line of my throat. Deep, passionate kisses against my lips, full of primal rhythm and plenty of wicked tongue.

But this kiss is by far my favorite. I’m about to tell him so when a long finger drags through my slick folds and I can’t speak a single word, I only moan as he slides his finger inside me.

“Fuck, Winnie,” he says in a rough voice. “You’re so tight.” He flutters his tongue over me, swirling it along every single nerve ending as his finger moves in and out, stretching me, making me writhe. “You’re so fucking wet.” He laps me up, and moans as though I’m a delicious treat and he’s eager for more.

I want to stop Max from going any further so I can strip his boxers off and hold him in my hands. I want to touch him. Stroke him. Taste him.

I want–

His hot tongue licks into me, the pleasure so shocking my toes curl. As I gasp, he slides his hands under my ass and grabs me, pulls me closer, licks deeper.

Stroke after stroke after stroke. I can’t stop my hips from beginning to rock, joining the thrusts of his tongue .

I slide my fingers through his hair, greedy for the sensations he’s giving me. Wanting more. The building pressure winds tighter and I’m not going to last. I’m not ready for these feelings to stop, everything feels too good.

“Max,” I cry, and he growls in response.

He plunges his finger into me, pumps until I moan and then he gives me another finger to ride. And I do. Hard. When his mouth returns to my clit, I have to cover my sounds with my hands. I buck off the bed but he only sucks harder.

Too soon, I break apart at the seams. Fireworks burst in my veins, molten coils rushing through me. My entire body shudders and shakes, but he continues lapping at me, drinking me in until the last shockwaves of my orgasm leave my body.

I’ve never been able to make myself orgasm this intensely. Not a single dildo in my collection ever came close to eliciting the full-body, mind-blowing sensations that Max’s tongue drew out of me.

“That was delicious,” he says, stretching out alongside me. I can’t move, fully boneless, can’t even open my eyes. He pulls the covers up around us and kisses me gently. I taste myself on his lips, and finally manage to crack an eye to look at him.

I feel like I’m floating, then I crash back down to earth from the highest of highs.

What if I wasn’t delicious? What if he changed his mind and doesn’t want to go any further now?

“Max,” I whisper.

“Hmm? ”

“That was pretty much one of the best things that ever happened to me, but… I want you inside me. I thought… I thought you wanted that too?”

I can feel his eyes on me in the dark.

“I want it now more than ever,” he says and for a moment, the entire world stops spinning. The naked sincerity in his voice brings tears to my eyes. He strokes my hair. “But not everything has to happen tonight. It might be cliche, but I want your first time to be special. Romantic.”

Yeah, he knows I’m a virgin. I don’t know if they all do, but I’ve told Max. But swoooooooooon.

“Also I really kind of need to clear the air with Mace before you and I take the next step.”

I swallow. Okay. I can accept that.

But… when he says take the next step… he is just talking sex, right?

A guy like Max Hammer doesn’t want to be your boyfriend, stupid. He’s just interested in getting it wherever he can. I’m the only man that will ever be honest with you. You remember that.

My dad’s voice. Even now.

“Is that okay with you?” Max whispers, sending my father’s words scattering to hide.

“Yeah,” I whisper back.

The smile he gives me is wicked and satisfied. It’s the last thing I see before he pulls me into his arms and holds me tight against his chest and I fall into the deepest, coziest sleep.