Page 20 of Make Me Whole

“Max,” I whispered and closed my eyes again. “Am I dreaming or are you really here?”

His fingers wiped the tears from my cheeks. “Yes, sweetheart, I am really here. And you are safe. It was just a bad dream.”

I nodded and cupped my right hand around my throbbing left wrist. That terrible night was over a year ago, and the injury still hadn’t fully healed. “It wasn’t a dream. It was a memory. A very bad one.”

“Do you want to tell me?”

I opened my eyes again and looked at him. His eyes were so warm, so honest, so filled with worry and compassion that I almost told him. I wanted to. I hadn’t shared that side of my marriage with anyone, and the pain and trauma kept growing inside me like cancer. I knew that talking would help, but it would also expose a side of me I hated. One I didn’t want Max to know.

I shook my head. “No. I don’t want to think about it anymore. At least, not today.”

Max’s jaw clenched, not the way Eli’s did when he was angry, but in a way that told he wanted to know what had bothered me but was making a gigantic effort to respect my privacy and desires. That respect and care were perhaps the sexiest things I had ever seen.

“Then what do you want? How can I help you, Sky?”

Moved by the weakness of the moment and my racing heart, I whispered, “Make me forget.”

Max licked his lips and held my gaze. “How do I do that?”

“Like this.” I leaned forward and pressed my lips to his.

9

MAX

When Sky’s lips first connected with mine, I didn’t move.

I didn’t breathe. I didn’t even close my eyes in fear that she would come to her senses and I would miss this brief connection. No part of me wanted her to feel embarrassed when she realized what a colossal mistake she was making.

But she didn’t pull away, and she didn’t seem embarrassed. She seemed perfectly aware and very sure of what she was doing—with her mouth, with my mind. Her lips pressed harder against mine as if begging me to respond.

My body hummed with desire for this woman. I desperately wanted to kiss her, to give her the solace she needed, but my mind was torn. Nothing good would come of this, I knew that much. But she was too good to walk away from.

New tears formed in her closed eyes, and I knew my lack of response was the reason for it. And I hated that. I hated that I had made her feel unwanted when all I wanted in that moment was her.

Fuck it,I thought and snaked a hand around the back of her head to hold her in place. With my eyes still open, I pressed my lips hard against hers. A thrill ran down my spine when the sad crease between her brows softened and her lips parted with a delighted sigh.

That was all the go ahead I needed to take things further.

I ran the tip of my tongue through the space between her lips, tasting Skylar for the first time. My eyelids fluttered. She tasted like toothpaste and a sweetness I had never tasted before. I couldn’t help but wonder if she tasted that good all over.

Her mouth parted wider, allowing me entrance. My tongue found hers, sweet and warm and so fucking responsive. My whole body hummed with an insatiable need as my fingers curled around the base of her long, dark hair.

She winced. I stopped.

“Did I hurt you?” I asked, breathless.

Skylar didn’t even open her eyes. She just shook her head the smallest bit. “No, but don’t yank at it, okay?”

Her reply was odd, and it briefly made me wonder why she’d said that. But my mind quieted as she returned her lips to mine. Our tongues danced together as I gently stroked her hair and massaged her scalp, showing her that passion didn’t have to be followed by pain and that some men—this man—was trustworthy.

She relaxed under my touch. Her arms snaked around my back, nails digging deliciously into the bare skin of my back. Her knees parted, and she scooted to the edge of the chair, causing her skirt to pool around her hips.

She tugged me closer, pressing the warmth at her center to the bare skin of my stomach. My head—both of them, actually—nearly exploded. She felt wet and soft, and I wanted a feel. My hands itched for her. My heart cried.

I snaked my hand beneath her skirt, feeling the softness of her upper thigh and letting just the tips of my fingers play with the sensitive spot underneath the moist fabric of her underwear.

“Oh, fuck, this feels so good, Max,” she moaned against my mouth, and I couldn’t agree more.

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