Page 93 of Want Me, Take Me, Haunt Me, Make Me

“Stiff upper lip, darling. A few qualities persist beyond the veil.” Maxwell settled a hand on her waist. “My school would be proud.”

Hazel suspected that wasn’t the whole truth. A hundred years without a sympathetic ear—with God knew what punishments for any sort of objection, probably—could easily make somebody lose the habit. What good would it be, after all?

“Melancholy?” Maxwell asked. “Other than for the obvious reasons, that is?”

“Appreciating you, mostly.”

“I can think of no better reason for a brown study,” he joked, and then his gaze turned speculative. The hand at her waist shifted, stroking up her spine. A tingling warmth followed. “Although—”

Hazel lifted her eyebrows. “Although?”

“I wouldn’t at all mind being a, ah, ‘coping strategy,’ if that would interest you. Quite all right if it doesn’t, of course.” Even teasing, he hesitated, watching her response.

“Yes,” she said, closing the distance between them. Her breasts brushed against the soft fabric of his robe, and desire began to unwind within her. “And no.”

Maxwell ran his fingers gently up her spine. “You’ve confused me, I fear.”

“Yes, I want you.” Hazel leaned up and kissed him, a quick, sweet touch of lips, then pulled back to meet his gaze. “But if you ever were a coping strategy, you’re not anymore.”

Chapter 49

She wasn’t entirely prepared for Maxwell’s reaction—not for the sudden tightness of his arms around her, pulling her close, or the heat of his mouth against hers. There was as much force in his kiss as there had been that first time in the ruined city, but no sense of being claimed this time—only a profound need. A corresponding fire blazed in her and she threw herself into the embrace, tongue meeting his as she grabbed his shoulders for balance.

The sundress had just been the nicest clothing Hazel had, but she quickly started appreciating its lack of coverage. Maxwell’s hands swept up over her bare arms and shoulders to cup her face, leaving her skin tingling in their wake, and the thin bodice wasn’t much barrier between his chest and her peaked nipples. The skirt didn’t do any better—she could almost feel every contour of his swelling erection.

“Mm,” she said, and melted against him some more.

Maxwell pulled back just enough to speak, showing her swollen lips and a half-drunk gaze. “We should go inside. Now.”

Inside was a long way off, though, and it was a warm night. “Or,” said Hazel, kissing him just where his jaw met his neck and smiling as he shivered, “we couldnot.”

“Oh?Oh.”

Hazel had almost gotten used to Maxwell picking her up by now. She barely yelped before he set her down on the porch railing,framing her between the post and his body, with one arm behind her back for support. He slid the other hand down over her breast and cupped it just firmly enough to make her gasp. Then, when she reached for the post to steady herself, he laughed softly.

“You have so little faith, Miss Lewis.” His hand moved to her other breast. Hazel tried to hold still, despite the growing ache between her legs, but couldn’t help squeezing her thighs together. “I won’t let you fall.”

His voice was velvet and woodsmoke. Hazel wanted to say something witty about falling already, but the words left her head as he bent to kiss her again, sliding his fingers just inside the neckline of her dress. When he lifted his head, all she could think to say was, “Please.”

“Only too happy to oblige,” he said. A moment later he was pushing her skirt up. Her thighs parted readily at the touch of his hand, the stroking exploration that felt wonderful but couldn’t reach its destination quickly enough. “Oh, youaredesperate, aren’t you?”

She wasn’t sure what sound she made. It didn’t matter. He wasn’t in a teasing mood that night; he slid her panties to one side and plunged his fingers inside her, hissing as she tightened around them. “God, you could undo asaint.”

“Never…known any,” Hazel panted, rocking her hips up into his hand. “Don’t want to right now.”

He laughed and bent to kiss her again. Their mouths found the same rhythm as his hand, unhurried but steady, unrelenting, like the circles his thumb made over her clit. Forgetting her precarious perch on the railing, Hazel arched back against Maxwell’s arm and whimpered into his mouth.

When she came, it was like gravity stopped working for a second.

She saw stars when her vision cleared, burning bright against the darkness, and Maxwell’s eyes were even brighter as he watched her. “I’ll carrythisimage until the end of the world,” he said, his voice low and rough. Slipping his fingers out of her, he brought them to his mouth and licked.

“I—” Hazel couldn’t look away fromhim. Not when his eyes flared at her taste, not when his tongue flicked out to lick his lips, and definitely not when he dropped his hand and started to undo his robe. “I don’t think we can balance—”

“Regrettably, no.” He made short work of the buckles, releasing the thick silver shaft of his cock. “I’m afraid you’ll have to stand up, dear heart, just for a little while.”

“I’ll see if my knees can support me,” she said, and Maxwell’s smile turned justifiably smug. When he helped her off the railing, Hazel leaned into his embrace, circling her hips against him, and savored the groan that resulted—she’d gotten a point back.

Scores didn’t really matter, though, and it wasn’t the night for much teasing. Maxwell reached beneath her skirt and ran his hands up her thighs before he slipped her underwear off, managing it almost in one smooth motion, and lifted her against him as soon as she’d stepped out of them. This time he cupped her ass in his hands. “Wrap your legs around me,” he said, but she was ahead of him on that one.