Page 43 of Defensive Zone

“I am not,” she said, still not shifting away, as her gaze traveled down his throat to his broad chest.

She wanted him.

Against her better judgment.

She wanted him.

His thumb pressed under her chin, forcing her to look up and meet his gaze.

“I’m not going to kiss you if you don’t want me to.”

His tongue darted out to lick the corner of his mouth, and she bit back a moan.

“I don’t want you to kiss me,” she said, lying through her teeth.

“Sure about that?” he asked, quirking a brow.

“God, you’re so damn infuriating,” she huffed out.

And then she gripped the front of his shirt and pulled his face to hers. There was a brief look of surprise in his eyes at her forwardness, but then his mouth was on hers and her eyes slammed shut, overwhelmed by the sheer fact that she was kissing the man who drove her insane.

Her lips pressed to his was all the invitation he’d apparently needed, because she quickly found herself pulled into his lap, his arms banding around her waist before one hand reached up and gripped the back of her neck beneath her thick hair.

That grip of possession shook her to her core, and she wanted more.

So much more.

His tongue traced the seam of her lips, and she parted on a gasp, giving him whatever he wanted.

His tongue tangled with hers, licking the inside of her mouth, and she moaned again. Damn, he was way too skilled at this. His beard should have been too much for her, but bolts of desire shot through her as the soft hair rasped against her fevered skin.

He tilted her head in his hands, angling for a deeper kiss, and she pressed her body to his. Her nipples were tight with need and she ached. She should’ve kept her bra on to at least give her another layer of fabric protection, but she hated wearing them, so here she was, braless and being kissed senseless by Max.

He tasted so good and smelled so good.

And this was so bad, but really, so good.

He shifted again and she felt it: his hard cock pressed against her thigh. That length should’ve shocked her into realizing what she was doing, but she rolled her hips against him and kept kissing.

“Fuck, Gabi,” he said, momentarily breaking the kiss before she cupped his face and dove in for more.

She wasn’t done kissing him, not by a long shot.

His hand tightened in her hair, pulling her mouth free from his, but before she could protest, he pressed nipping kisses along her jaw. A groan rumbled out of his throat as he bit down on her earlobe before moving on to kiss the spot where her shoulder and neck met.

A shiver wracked her body as he found every sensitive spot that his mouth could reach.

There were a lot of spots.

“So responsive,” he muttered against her skin, and she gasped when he moved back to capture her lips again.

Then in her lust-filled fog, she heard it: Elise crying.

And it was getting louder.

“Shit,” she said, quickly shifting out of Max’s hold as Ava walked into the kitchen, where she could clearly see them if she turned around.

Gabi tucked her hair behind her ear, wondering how mussed she looked, and shot up from the couch, rushing into the kitchen.

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