Page 15 of Her Reclusive Beast

There’s a very slight breeze, just enough to waft the scent of evergreens from the nearby forest. Max spreads out the blanket on the grass. Cautiously, I sit down on it, unsure of how to arrange my legs. He settles that by picking them up by my ankles and settling them across his lap before opening the basket.

My eyes close briefly in bliss. These aren’t the picnic foods I remember from my childhood — soggy egg salad sandwiches and broken potato chips. Max prepared a feast of different salads and gourmet finger foods. Tiny quiches and miniature filled buns. It’s delicious and I’m stuffed to the gills before I can force myself to stop.

Max watches me with a pleased expression, or possibly possessive, depending on your point of view. I groan with that sudden feeling of being too full and start to stand up before he stops me with a hand on my upper arm. “We should get back to work,” I comment, surprised at his insistence on lingering.

He shakes his head ever so slightly. “Stay, little Jenna. It’s my turn to feast.”

My eyes widen, unsure of his meaning beyond that he means on me. I got that message clearly. But which part? “Umm,” I offer hesitantly. His lips quirk in response.

“Come here.” He pats his lap and simply waits.

I’m too caught up in his magnetism to avoid crawling in his direction for long. I settle onto his crossed legs like this is my natural resting place. Max’s arms close around me. “Tell me about your family,” he orders gruffly.

I twist so I can raise a sardonic eyebrow in his direction. “What? Why should I spill secrets when you’re not willing to?”

His elegant lips twist upwards. “Because I am positive there is very little dark in your past, sweet Jenna. And I would like to know all parts of you better.”

His thumb leisurely drags down the length of my lower arm, making my spine tingle.

“Fine,” I sigh. “I grew up in Oregon, in a small farming community. My mom recently retired from teaching third grade and my dad is the Chief of Police. It’s only a force of three, so…”

Max huffs a laugh into my hair. “However, he has a gun and I’m intimately touching his daughter.”

I giggle at that. “He’d like you. My grandma wouldloveyou.”

“She’s still alive?” he murmurs before his lips make contact with the back of my neck. I shiver even as I attempt to answer.

“Yes,” I gasp. “She’s in an assisted living place because she refuses to live with my parents. Said she needs her independence and doesn’t want an audience while she flirts with the male members of staff.”

Max snorts a laugh. “No siblings?” His lips move around to my ear, nibbling the rim. My pussy is growing wet and eager.

“No.” I don’t think I can manage any more words than that. The man holding me so tenderly slows his kisses almost to nonexistence. I shift in his embrace.

“Jenna? If you want this to continue, I need you to remove one article of clothing. It’s your choice what it is. Or we can return to the house and the manuscript waiting there.”

It takes a minute for his words to sink into my hormone-soaked brain.

“Anything?” I query, confused.

“Anything,” he confirms, moving his hands from me to rest on his thighs. I feel bereft without his touch, even though I’m still surrounded by his solid body. I contemplate my options. I didn’t dress for strip poker. There aren’t that many choices. And while it’s a warm sunny autumn day, it’s hardly July.

“Fine,” I sigh and tug my t-shirt up and over my head. It’s the easiest and requires the least movement. Plus, I’m hardly that exposed with my bargain-rack white cotton bra remaining in place.

Max hums with approval. The next thing I know, his lips are tracing the line of my collarbone. My back arches to bring him into closer proximity, but his hands hold me firmly in place.

“Max?” I mumble, not even sure what my question is.

“Hmmm?” he murmurs in response, not bothering to lift his lips from my skin.

“What are you doing?”

He nips gently at the skin right at the edge of my bra cup before chuckling. “I think you know, Jenna.”

Max returns to teasing my flesh. A warm flush washes over me. I feel… almost awkward being the center of so much focused attention. At the same time, it gives me a sense of belonging, being in the right place with the right man.

Daringly, I reach behind my back with one hand and unfasten my bra. Max growls and flops me over onto the blanket. He braces most of his weight on his elbows over me, but allows some of it to pin me in place. My hands reach up for his shoulders.

“Who’s in charge here, Jenna?”

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