My hands cup her ass cheeks as I bring her body closer to my mouth. It’s my mission to have my lips on every part of her.
I SQUEEZE MY eyes shut at the feel of his lips on my skin. He gently bites and immediately soothes the site with his tongue. My body trembles at the contact. I move my hands to his hair and run my fingers through his thick silk strands. This causes him to change the hold he has on me. His hands grip my ass and I find myself being pulled closer to him, to those lips that are driving me crazy.
The buzzer on the washer sounds, alerting me that my first load is done, and it’s like a bucket of water has been thrown over my head. What in the hell am I doing? I remove my hands from his hair, lay them against his chest, and push myself away from him. He lifts his head to look at me, and the look in his eyes, the rapid rise and fall of his chest, has me almost launching myself back into his arms.
Almost.
The reality of the situation is that Maxton Cooper is the epitome of a sex god and I want nothing more than to let him have his wicked way with me. Want and need are two very different things. I need him and his sinful mouth to stay far away. Guys like Maxton remind me too much of Justin, and his brother. That is not what I need, not at all.
“Kensi?” he whispers my name. His voice is gruff and almost pained?
I take a step back as he reaches out for me. “Duty calls,” I say, then turn and bolt from the room.
I take my time swapping the clothes from the washer to the dryer. I need to put in another load, but I don’t want to go back to my room. I’m not even sure Maxton is still in there, on my bed.
“Kensington.” His deep voice rumbles behind me. I close my eyes and focus on taking deep even breaths. His voice alone has me wanting to throw caution to the wind and drag him back to my bed. My body wants that, wants him. My head is telling me to keep my distance.
Stepping in the room, he stands behind me. I don’t bother turning around; I can feel him. One hand goes to my hip and he laces our fingers together with the other. He tugs me so my back is resting against his firm chest. His lips trace the invisible lines of my neck. Just when I think I can’t take any more, his lips are gone as he whispers in my ear. “I know I should apologize for what happened back there. I should tell you I’ll never touch you like that again.” His teeth graze my ear. “Something you should know about me, I will never apologize for going after what I want.”
I say a silent prayer that he has an iron grip around my waist. Otherwise, I would be in a puddle on the floor. His words make my knees weak and my panties wet.
Maxton shifts to stand in front of me. Bending his knees so we are eye to eye, his hands cradle either side of my face. His thumbs are a soft caress to my cheeks. “I will not apologize for wanting you,” falls from his lips as he leans in. I tense, preparing myself for the kiss that I don’t have the power to fight. I’m shocked when his lips land on my forehead.
The kiss is brief, yet intimate, and just like that, his hands are gone from my face and he’s walking out the door. I fight the urge to yell at him; for what, I’m not sure. I want to yell at him for using his playboy powers on me, and at the same time, I want to yell at him for leaving, for not finishing what he started. Instead, I lean back against the dryer and try to catch my breath. My heart is racing, my palms are sweaty, and the ache between my legs is a craving I’ve never known before. I’ve never felt this kind of chemistry. Just being in the same room as him lights me on fire, but damn if I’m going to fall for his seduction so he can carve out another notch on his bedpost. Not going to happen!
Once I finally get my heart rate to a normal rhythm, I set off to find Maxton. He’s sitting on the couch, remote in hand. “Hey, what are you in the mood for?” he asks.
It takes me a few minutes to realize his question is not his normal sexual come on. I watch as he flips through the channels. His forehead crinkles when he gets to a channel that he has no interest in. “Kensi?”
“Uh, what are you doing?” Stupid question, I know. My head is all over the place right now. It’s usually really easy to know what a player’s intentions are. To get you in bed ASAP and move on to the next conquest. I expect that from Maxton. What I don’t expect is for him to want to sit around in my apartment while I catch up on laundry and watch TV. He’s a constant contradiction. How can I trust anything he says and does when he’s all over the map?
Shrugging, he says, “Keeping you company while you do laundry.”
His response is so… innocent. Not at all what I was expecting. “You don’t have to keep me company, Maxton. I’m sure you have something else you’d rather be doing.” Or someone else maybe.
“I don’t do anything I don’t want to do. I’m good.” He pats the couch next to him.
I sit down on the couch, putting as much distance between us as possible. “I’m not real picky when it comes to movies. Anything is fine.” I see no point in arguing with him. He has obviously made up his mind that he’s hanging out with me today. I can’t wait to hear what Nicole has to say about this.
I HAD TO get out of there. I was two seconds from throwing her over my damn shoulder and carrying her back to her room. She’s fighting it. I know she wants me; I can see it in her eyes, in the way her body responds to mine. Her chest is rapidly rising and falling with each breath. Her eyes are hooded with desire. I also see fear. She’s hesitant, not willing to take what she so obviously wants. I want to know the cause of her fears, help take them away.
As bad as I want to sink inside of her, I never want her or any women to fear me. I’m not that kind of guy. I may steer clear of emotional attachments, but I never want to hurt them, hurt her. The girls I’m with know the score, as I’m sure Kensington does. There is a difference though. She turned me down and now here I sit, in her apartment, trying to get her to decide on what to watch.
I had every intention of leaving. I needed space to wrap my head around why I even ended up here today. As soon as I made it to the living room, the thought of leaving didn’t sit well with me. I push that in the back of my mind. Not going there.
“Armageddon?” I ask as I stop on one of the movie channels.
“Hello, it has Ben Affleck in it.”
“And?” I ask. I know where she’s going with this, but I want her to say it. I need to get that easy banter back. My hope is that it will take over the thoughts of what just happened. Slim chance, but worth a shot.
“And he’s hot!” she says as a slight blush covers her face.
“All right then.” I reach down and slip off my boots and settle in, resting them on the coffee table. “You know what sounds good right now?” She doesn’t answer, so I keep talking. “Popcorn.” I turn my head to look at her. She’s watching me.
The expression on her face tells me I’m acting as crazy as I feel. This isn’t me. “You’re right. I’ll make some.” She quickly hops off the couch and sprints to the kitchen.
I hit pause on the remote. I hear her banging around in the kitchen. The smell of freshly popped popcorn floats through the air. I wait a few more minutes and still no Kensington. Getting to my feet, my nose leads me to the kitchen. She’s on her tippy toes reaching for a bowl. I move in behind her and place my hand on her hip while the other reaches over her head and grabs it.