Betrayed (Wild Mountain Scots, #4)

Lia

In the apartment, Evie fussed at me, unsettled and not willing to nap. Likewise, Max couldn’t seem to drag himself out of my orbit.

Gabe’s phone call had scared the life out of him, he told me quietly so Evie wouldn’t hear.

“Tell me what hurts,” he added, drifting his knuckles down the length of my arm.

I only had a single scratch on me, a red line scoring my shin. It had bled a tiny bit, and when I showed Max, he sucked in a breath then stood from the couch.

“I’ll go get the car and drive us to town. Ye need groceries anyway, and we’ll pick up antiseptic cream.”

There was an unspoken question in there, too. He’d stocked up the fridge and cupboard for us days ago, but we were running low on a few things. He waited on my word, the confirmation that we would stay for longer.

“Yes, please,” I replied, and he set out.

Our afternoon passed in perfect domesticity. We shopped, bought Evie bath toys, then headed home. Max took care of my scratch, then prepared dinner while I played with Evie. We ate together as a family and were soon in the bedtime routine.

The whole time, it felt like Max and I were circling each other.

Something powerful was building between us. It had been from the day we met and had only gone on pause the years we were apart.

Max collected a wriggly Evie from her bath and bundled her up in a towel like he’d been doing it all her life. His damp T-shirt clung to his muscles, and I couldn’t have looked away for any money. He fascinated me. He always had.

In the bedroom, Evie demanded we both dress her, grabbing at us to keep us near. Then she let Max walk her around the room until her eyes closed and sleep took her under.

Though we’d done this a few times now, I was a goner for the scene. Of the big man with his tiny daughter asleep in his arms. Hair tousled from the steamy bathroom. Her little arm, encased in her bunny print onesie, draped over Max’s tattooed shoulder.

He carefully placed her in her cot, and my heart skipped.

Finally, we were alone, and I could do what I’d been picturing all evening.

With nerves and confidence competing for control, I silently crossed to stand right in front of Max. Then I slid my hand into his hair and brought his mouth to mine.

Instantly, he returned the kiss.

A tiny moan escaped me, and Max walked me backwards out of the room. In the hall, he pushed me against the wall then held me there while he stared into my eyes.

We’d come so far. Only too recently had we hated the sight of each other. Hurt beyond belief by the actions of the other. I still hadn’t got to the bottom of that disaster, but it had paled in comparison to the healing we’d started to do.

Whoever had tried to break us had failed. Nothing could stop the draw we shared.

As if he could read my thoughts, Max dropped his gaze to my mouth then closed the distance to deliver a kiss both tender and dirty at the same time.

Pure heat pooled deep within my belly, and desire energised me.

This was so on.

I angled my head and slid my tongue over his, taking the lead. Before, the single time we slept together, I’d made the first move, astonished at my own boldness. It was almost accidental, purely following a teenage instinct. Now, I needed this more than oxygen.

With rising confidence, I reached for the hem of his T-shirt. Max smiled against my lips and let me pull the shirt over his head. Then without warning, he grabbed my thighs and lifted me into his arms, carrying me into the living room.

Earlier in our stay, he’d brought a lamp over. With dusk descending, he set it on low and dropped to the couch, all without putting me down. Now, I straddled him and returned my lips to his for a drugging kiss.

Memories surged.

This was how our first and only time had started. In the back of a car, in this position.

Throughout my time here, we’d been reliving and reenacting our history. Improving on our first time around. But this, I didn’t want to improve. We’d made Evie, the single greatest achievement of my life.

Now was something entirely new.

Though our kiss was unending, Max practically bristled with energy. He allowed my touch, my exploration of his shoulders and arms with my fingertips. Just feeling his hard muscles and knowing the strength in them sparked something deep within my brain. The bit which made women silly.

Under me, he was already hard, and I grazed over that ridge. After coming home earlier, I’d changed into a flowing dress. Max dropped his hands from my waist to drift up my legs, taking the material with him.

“Take it off,” I ordered, my breathing rough.

But he shook his head once, regret settling in his expression. “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“If we start this, I won’t want to stop. I want ye every way I can have ye.”

I held his gaze with mine. “What makes you think I don’t want that, too?”

“Lia…”

I gripped the pooled material of my dress and stripped it, tossing it aside. In just my matched, skimpy white lingerie, I set my elbows on his shoulders and leaned in until our mouths were millimetres apart. “If you want, I can talk you through this by the way of a memory. I don’t want that. I want only new experiences with you. Not dwelling on the past.”

I ground down on him, marking my words.

My pale thighs astride his jean-clan legs. My bare skin gleaming in the lamp’s glow, accentuating every curve.

Max gave a desperate sound and dropped his head back on the couch. When he brought his focus back to me, dark, dangerous light sparked in his gaze.

Then it was as if a pistol had been fired.

His hands landed on my thighs and slid to my backside, and Max took rude handfuls, his fingertips indenting my flesh. At the same point, his mouth devoured mine again.

I gasped and held on for dear life. This was all I’d wanted. For him to let go with me.

Now I had it, I’d give him it all in return.

While our kiss drove me higher and higher, Max’s exploration continued, his deep groan the answer to finding me wet for him.

Just that barest touch at the core of me started a fire.

I jerked up and struggled with his jeans button. “These, off.”

Max placed me on the couch then stood and rid himself of the rest of his clothes. His jeans and boxers landed strewn with my dress, the casualties of our war. Gloriously naked, he stared down at me with a hunger that had me panting.

“Stand up,” he bit out.

I jumped to obey.

“Kitchen,” he followed up.

I fled, and he followed, a hulking presence at my back. My feet padded across the darkened kitchen’s floor, and Max closed the door until it was an inch ajar.

For Evie’s sake, I realised. We’d be able to hear her if she woke.

Then he came to me like a hunter with prey. “Since I had ye draped over my bike, I’ve dreamed of doing this.”

He turned me to the cool counter and placed my hands down flat. With a flick of his wrist, Max unclasped my bra, and I let it fall to the floor.

“Dinna move, sweetheart.”

From behind, he took two handfuls of my breasts, groaning at the touch. I arched into him, panting as he moulded me then played with my nipples, stretching them out then pressing them between his fingers and thumbs.

Pleasure built, electrifying my skin.

At my back, he thrust his dick against my backside. I pushed into him.

“Ye should see yourself, just in that tiny white thong. You’re a gift wrapped up for me.”

“Unwrap me then.”

His hands left my breasts to coast down my sides. He curled his fingers under the elastic of my last remaining clothing item, then whipped them down my legs.

“Tell me what ye need,” he growled out, darkness lacing his tone.

“You, inside me. Now.”

Max took an inhale, sounding almost in pain. Though this was momentous between us for multiple reasons, we needed to take this step. With one hand on my hip, he fitted himself between my legs from behind and teased my entrance.

Then he slowly sank home.

We both gasped in deep need.

I’d tried so hard to remember how this felt, but nothing competed with living it. The heavy presence of him inside me hit pleasure centres in a rush of feeling. I pushed back, needing more, and Max abandoned his gentle approach and drove into me.

I made another desperate sound.

Max placed his hands either side of mine, bracketing me with his body. While my fingers were splayed, his hands were in fists, his knuckles proud, and the muscles on his forearms popping. He kept up the motion of his hips with a steady, slow roll. Yet with his chest pressed to my shoulders, the racing of his heart suggested he wasn’t nearly so cool about this.

In between thrusts, he laid open-mouthed, hot kisses on my neck, his tongue tasting me.

I’d lost the ability to speak and could only feel.

Then Max withdrew and grasped my shoulder. He turned me, his lips taking mine without pause.

“I need everything with ye. All at once. I don’t know where to start.”

In a fast move, he boosted me to the counter so I was perched on the edge, then pushed between my thighs to continue our kiss.

I wrapped my legs around him and linked my ankles, keeping him close.

At exactly the right height, he slid his dick through my slick folds, glancing over my clit. I reached and took hold of him, repeating the motion.

God, that felt good.

In my fist, Max thrusted a few times, then took over and pushed inside once more. I rested on my arms and wallowed in the sensation. Max took the opportunity to lower his face and suck my nipple into his mouth.

I yelped and speared his hair with my fingers, urging him on.

In all my dreams of us together, I’d been so limited in my imagination.

This was so dirty yet so perfect.

Pressure built within me, winding up to be something powerful. At this angle, Max hit new spots, and he left my nipples to watch my face.

At my next moan, he changed the pace to hit the same place over and over.

“This?” he asked.

I couldn’t answer. My eyes closed of their own accord, my concentration locked on that good feeling. My breathing stalled. I tipped my head to one side, my explosion nearing.

Somehow knowing, Max slammed home, his movements still precise but faster and harder. My legs trembled, my heart pounded, then my climax hit. Blinding pleasure overwhelmed me.

I growled out an animal sound but was dragged upright so Max could take my mouth once more.

He swallowed my moans. I clamped my legs around him to slow him down.

Still kissing me, still hard inside me, he brought me into his arms and walked out of the kitchen and down the hall.

“Once before, we did this. We were kids, but look, Aurelia. Look at what we made.”

In the bedroom, by the faint nightlight, Evie slept peacefully in her cot.

“Made of love,” Max said, lips to my ear.

I melted, draped onto him and so full of bliss and happiness I couldn’t reply.

He snagged the quilt from the bed as he crossed the room, then tossed it down on the floor and knelt, laying me on it with him on top.

We were out of sight of our baby but in range of how this had once gone for us.

With barely any space between us, Max jacked his hips. He braced himself with one arm and, with his other hand, pressed it over my mouth. I smiled against his palm.

Without him saying a word, I knew exactly what was on his mind. How we’d made a teenage error in judgment that had been the best thing to happen to either of us.

There was no mistake now. The only problems between us had been caused by others.

Everything Max and I did together was perfectly right.

Working his hips, he made love to me on the bedroom floor. Silently, we surrendered to all that had been undeniable between us.

There was nothing here but us and the good things we made.

In hot, sweaty moves, we lost ourselves in a meld of perfect chemistry. I surged to meet his blows. He gave me everything he had.

My throbs had him lose his rhythm, and Max removed his hand and pulled up so he could see my eyes. “I’m close.” His voice was a guttural whisper.

“I know.”

“Bare.”

I gave a tiny nod. Then I gave up my half of the deal. “I’m not on any contraceptive.”

The heat and electricity we generated boosted even higher, dizzying me.

“If we…” Max started.

I kissed him, cutting him off. Showing my intent.

So slowly, he glided into me and withdrew. Then his pace picked up, and I bit down on the urge to cry out, rocking my hips to meet his. Nothing had ever felt this good, not even that first time when I was all need and no knowledge.

Max sucked in a breath and slammed home. He did it again and again, watching my expression. A second orgasm barrelled through me with shocking ease, and I was flying yet only too aware that my peak triggered his.

With a ragged, muted groan, Max came hard and spilled deep inside me. No barrier between us.

The muscles at his neck strained, and he dropped his face to my shoulder, stilling his moves. A bloom of emotion washed over me, chasing the post-orgasmic bliss with something stronger. Deeper-dwelling.

I linked my legs over Max’s, keeping him right where I needed him. Keeping the essence of him in place.

He nuzzled my neck, his smirk in place in the dim light. Then he kissed me, not moving from the little den we’d made on the floor.

We were so much more than chemistry and lust. Max and I were two halves of a whole. Perfect for each other.

After a long while of just holding each other, I managed to find my voice once more.

“I’m so in love with you,” I told him.

But soft breathing was my only reply. Max slept so, in his arms, I did, too.