Page 33 of Invisible String
I wish I had her enthusiasm. Although Lana has never been the type to have a one-night stand.
A knock at the door has my heart pumping, and it’s ridiculous because we just saw each other.
The fabric of Max’s T-shirt molds to each defined muscle of his chiseled chest, accentuating his broad shoulders. The sight of his large biceps straining against the fabric sends a thrill through me. His beautiful green eyes dance over my body like he wants to rip my clothes off. I have the urge to throw my beautiful best friend out the door.
My body hums like a symphony. “Come in,” I breathe out. I wipe my hands with a cloth, getting rid of particles of cheese on the palms of my hands. “I was grating cheese,” I blurt nervously.
Max’s large frame looms over me. The whiff of fresh soap lingers in the air when he leans in. “Preciosa.” His finger strokes my cheek.
I don’t know what that means, but I like it.
“Who’s doing the cooking?” Those emerald eyes have me hypnotized. They sparkle like a star, and his lashes are long and sexy.
“Oh, I am. Lana can’t cook for the life of her.”
“I heard that!” Lana yells from the kitchen.
Lana and I study the recipe on Pinterest while Max watches us. Every time I glance his way, his gaze is on me. As I pull out ingredients, Lana’s phone buzzes. She sighs, and I give her a curious look. She shakes her head.
“You got this?” she asks.
“Sure.” I nod. It’s a lot simpler than the recipe calls for.
“Good, I gotta—” She shakes her phone and leaves the kitchen.
Shrugging, I get back to following the recipe. I put everything together and put it in the pan. Once I’m done frying it and adding a topping for garnish, I hand it to Max.
“I hope you like it. I’ve never made it before. I’ve eaten it once at restaurants?—”
“I’ll like it, I promise,” he assures me with a sweet, drop-dead sexy smile.
God, I love his smile more than anything, and that it’s only reserved for me, it always has been.
“I’m heading out, you two. It was nice seeing you, Max, and I hope I get to see you when I get back. We can all hang out, get drinks or something.” She lays her hand on his shoulder. He doesn’t push it away or flinch, but he does glance at it.
“Yeah, see you, Lana,” Max says to her.
“Aren’t you going to eat?” I set her plate on the long vase table. She shakes her head and walks to the living room, where she takes her luggage.
“Mom texted me to get my ass home. She said we’re leaving in the morning. Like three in the morning.” She hisses, wrestling with her bags.
“Do you want me to wrap one in foil for you?”
She waves a hand in the air. “You two enjoy.” She turns to Max with a teasing expression on her pretty face. “Max, take care of my girl while I’m gone. I need her in one piece for next semester. Rainey, my lady, gets us good grades when she flashes her tits to our professor.” She grins like a fool while I pinch the bridge of my nose.
Max cuts into his chimichanga, his expression unreadable. “You do have a perfect pair of tits, but…” The knife slices through the food, squeaking on the ceramic plate. “I suggest you keep them covered if you don’t want to see me smash his head into a wall. I’m no damn saint, but I can be brutal when I need to be.”
The gruff tone of his words causes a chill to run up my spine. I’m by no means supporting brutal violence, but it turns me on. He continues eating, and Lana winks at me with a wicked smile.
CHAPTER TEN
MAX
Apart of me didn’t want to eat dinner, although I was starving. The taste of her lingered on my tongue. I wanted to savor it as long as possible. Her body is like a tune you want to play on repeat. As she bends down, desire surges through me—raw, unfiltered, and craving every part of her. I didn’t care that she didn’t know I hadn’t gone down on a woman. It’s not that I didn’t want to, it’s that they get all touchy, and it’s not their touch I’ve wanted. They were never the woman I had on repeat; all I needed was to get off. It’s a unique feeling with Rainey. I crave the touch of her hands on my skin, and mine on hers.
“Max.”
Rainey’s soft voice takes me out of my trance. She radiates with natural beauty. She leans against the vast kitchen island. Her green skirt hugs her curves. The hem of the tank top rides up, showing her pierced belly button. The slope of the shirt shows her breasts, and she blushes at the heat of my stare at her pointy nipples.
