Revved to the Maxx (Reynold's Restorations 1) - Page 77

I ignored the thought that if there were a forever, Charly would be the one I chose to spend it with.

I couldn’t deal with thoughts like that.

Chapter 20

CHARLY

I climbed off the bicycle, parking it inside the barn. I ran my hand over my head and smiled. Mary had French braided my hair last night, and the thick band hung down my back. It felt different, the air on my neck, but I liked it. I had no idea how to French braid, but Mary had been patient, showing me as she went along. I hoped I could do it half as well as she did next time.

It had been a fun evening and so great to see Monica again. She and Mary had been friends for years, and it was nice to spend some time with both of them. Monica cupped my cheeks before she left.

“You look so much happier, child.”

“I am,” I assured her.

“Good. Come see me soon, yes?”

“I will.”

“Bring this Maxx of yours. I want to meet him.”

I felt my smile falter a little. We were closer, but I doubted he would ever be truly mine. He was adamant about the future—that we had none. Still, I nodded. “You should come to the garage and meet him. Have your car serviced. They do great work.”

“I will do that.”

I wiped my hands off on my jeans and tugged down the new T-shirt I wore. My yoga pants were far more comfortable, but I decided to give Maxx a break today. They seemed to drive him to distraction. Hopefully, an evening away from me would have done him some good. He probably enjoyed the peace and quiet.

I headed directly to the garage, smiling as I walked through the large space. It looked so different. Many of the customers this week had commented positively, engaging Maxx in conversation about the pictures, some sharing memories with him about his parents. The chats seem to lift his spirits, and I was so glad I decided to go with my gut on the pictures I chose. The garage’s past was so tied up with his parents and his life, and the history should be celebrated.

I set my bag beside my desk and went to the back of the office to make coffee. I filled the pot with water, then looked around for the coffee filters, spying them on the second shelf. I rolled my eyes, knowing either Brett or Maxx had put them up there, forgetting it was I who would use them next. I stretched up as high as I could go, reaching for them, muttering under my breath about tall men and their thoughtlessness. I startled when a strong arm wrapped around my waist, and a hand reached past me to snag the pile of filters.

“No need for all the mutterings, Red. I got them.”

I relaxed back into Maxx’s firm chest. “You need to leave them on the bottom shelf.”

“You shouldn’t leave the coffee to me or Brett—for many reasons,” he replied, his voice a low hum in my ear.

“Then stop being so impatient in the morning and wait five minutes until I come in. If you weren’t so intent on sexing me up all night, I could get in here a little earlier.”

He chuckled darkly. “I like sexing you up.”

His arm tightened, and I moaned. “Is that a dipstick in your pocket, Maxx, or are you just happy to see me?”

He ran his lips down my neck, licking and nipping at my skin. “I’m very happy to see you, Red.” He sucked at my earlobe. “I like the hair.”

“Mary did it for me. It’s going to be hot today, and she thought it would keep my neck cool.”

He flattened his hand on my stomach, rubbing his finger under my waistband in long, slow passes.

“I’m feeling pretty hot already,” he growled.

I gasped as he tugged my braid, tipping up my head. His mouth covered mine possessively. He stroked along my tongue in slow, intense passes. His lips worked mine hard, holding me prisoner against his body. He ran his hand over my breasts, plucking the nipples through my shirt, making me squirm. He made fast work of my button and zipper, then his fingers, his talented, wicked fingers, slipped under the material and strummed at my clit. I arched against his touch, suddenly desperate for the feel of his hands on me.

He pulled away from my mouth, dragging his lips across my cheek to my ear. His voice was low, demanding, and intense. “You’re always ready for me, aren’t you, Red? You knew I’d come for you.”

I could only whimper. I was wet five seconds after he kissed me. Only he could do that to me.

“You left me alone last night. I didn’t like it.” He pressed one finger inside me, then added a second, keeping his thumb on my clit. My legs began to shake, and I moaned at the sensations he was creating. “Don’t do it again.”

Tags: Melanie Moreland Reynold's Restorations Suspense
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