Page 47 of My Pucking Crush
“Same with me.” I argue, making him see we have more in common than he thinks.
“I doubt it was exactly the same.” Max pushes me up against the wall.
“Wait,” I mutter.
“For what?” His fist closes around my tie. The touch sends electricity through me, and I have to catch my breath. “What do you think I’m going to do to you?” he snarls.
“Yank my face down and knee me in the nose?”
“Ha!” Max barks a laugh. “Caught that move on the ice a few nights ago, huh?”
“Yeah, I know you love playing dirty.”
He swallows thickly. “Interesting choice of words.”
“Got something to say to me, or are you just intimidating me?”
When he doesn’t answer, I grab Max by the throat, surprise widening his eyes. I pull him in for a punishing kiss, but damn, he meets me fucking halfway. My mouth crashes into his and he hungrily accepts my kiss.
A second later, he takes over. Takesmeover, takes what he needs from me. And he can have it. He can have all of me. God, what am I saying?
But I’m too lost in his mouth. We’re a sloppy, grunting mess of gnashing teeth, wet tongues, and swollen lips. Much different from the other night.
I feel the rage he wants to let out of his system, how he hates longing for me the way he does. But fuck, he wants me. It’s hard against my stomach, the long steely length of him.
“God, yes,” I murmur like a fool, and it breaks the spell.
Max shoves me away, gasping with wetness dabbing his lashes. His cheeks stained with a dark blush, he grinds out, “What the fuck? You said this can’t happen.”
“Apparently it did.” I’m so fucked.
Turmoil boils in his blue eyes as he backs out of the coat closet.
“Max, it’s okay,” I say, my voice small. Christ, I’m so down with giving him what he needs.
“No. This is not okay!” He grips my shoulders, pressing his face to mine again. But he doesn’t kiss me.
Who the fuck hurt him? I’ll fucking kill the man who did it.
“Lurking in the shadows suits you, not me.” Max storms away, leaving me a wrung-out mess, but wanting him so much more.
Fixing myself, I return to the ballroom to see thecrowd has thinned out. I get caught in a stream of guests trying to exit the ballroom at the same time. Too many damn people!
When I reach the lobby, my heart crawls into my throat.
Max is...gone.
TWENTY-SIX
Max
I’ll catch hell for this, but I grab a ride home with Damien Carter and a guy he picked up. They laugh in the front seat like they’ve known each other forever. I hide how jealous I am of Carter.
I keep telling myself life would be different, better, if only I came forward about what my uncle did to me. But I’d be ripping open a wound that my family will only use to return deadly fire on me. Repeat the lie that I assaulted Jake and deserved to be raped for it.
But it doesn’t change the way I admire how Carter knows himself and is so secure with his sexuality. I still second guess every flip of my stomach, every pinch of my heart, and ache in my pants when I look at...
Luca.