An American Werewolf in Hoboken (18 page)

* * *

Hand in hand they strolled as Max pulled JC down a long, narrow path from his mother’s. “Is anyone in your family ugly?” she asked. “Honestly, between you and your gorgeous sisters and your mother, your family hit the gene pool lottery.” She couldn’t get over just how beautiful his sisters were. Dark and tall, long-limbed and willowy, with olive skin and Max’s amber-brown eyes.

“Derrick got all the ugly,” he joked, making her laugh.

When he stopped in a clearing rich with pine trees and the amazing colors of the season, she inhaled sharply.

Max’s house was, in a word, incredible.

Reminiscent of a Swiss chalet, there were floor-to-ceiling windows reaching to a peak at the roofline. From what she could see, an enormous deck spread all the way around the house, dotted with potted mums in every color. Wide steps led to double oak doors with oval stained-glass windows. She stood silent for a moment, breathless.

Max wrapped his arms around her from behind, pulling her to his chest. “You like?”

“Wow,” she whispered. “This is yours?”

“It is,” he murmured in her ear, nipping the lobe and making her shiver.

She turned in his arms, ignoring the tightening of her nipples when they scraped his chest. “Oh no. I want explanations before you drag me inside and prep me for my skinning.”

Max wiggled his eyebrows. “Shoot.”

“If this is yours, then the apartment in Hoboken is only temporary? Why would you leave all this for a dinky apartment?”

“It
is
only temporary. My work brought me to Hoboken, but that’ll end soon.”

And there it was. The huge flaw she’d been waiting for. Max wasn’t looking to settle down in Hoboken. Cedar Glen was four hours away. If this was his permanent residence, that meant… What did that mean? “And you didn’t tell me you weren’t planning to stay in Hoboken
why
?”

“I hadn’t gotten to it yet? My work there still isn’t done?” he hedged, grabbing her hand and leading her up the stairs to his castle.

When he opened the doors, she was of two minds—it was as amazing inside as it was out, and he hadn’t told her about his house for a reason.

Following him into the foyer, she gasped again. It was all one floor but for a loft sprawling the entire length of the house, and done in log-cabin style, with a floor-to-ceiling fireplace and furnishings in deep reds and turquoise.

His kitchen was a dream, full of shiny silver appliances, smooth maple butcher-block countertops and cabinets made of walnut.

“Nat,” he explained, as her eyes took in the lush plants in every corner and oil paintings on the wall. “She decorated, if you’re wondering. Otherwise I’d have a folding chair and the flat screen.”

Taking a step back from him, she decided to go for blunt. “You’re rich?”

His gaze was sheepish, a look she wasn’t used to from bold Max. “I’m not poor.”

“Do all environmentalists make this kind of money?” Speaking of his job, she didn’t know a lot about it, other than he freelanced for environmentally friendly corporations as a consultant, specializing in digitizing storage and reducing paperwork.

He shrugged. “Only the really good ones?”

“You’re being intentionally vague.”

“I’m being honest.”

“And you didn’t tell me about this,” she let her arm swing wide, “because?”

“Because I didn’t want you to think you were just my diversion in Hoboken until I came back home.”

Nice. Max was always nice, wasn’t he? The jumbled mess her stomach had become settled a bit. “And you intend to come back home, don’t you?”

He looked at her long and hard in that intense way he had when they made love and he wanted her to
see
him. “I do, JC.”

She swallowed, fighting a wave of tears. Here was more of the flaw. The big, ugly flaw. “So how long are you in Hoboken?”

Wrapping an arm around her waist, Max hauled her against him hard. “Until I can convince you to come back here with me.”

Her stomach fluttered in tune with her heart. Oh. Well, okay then. “I have a business in Hoboken, Max.” A semi-successful one—one she’d worked hard to build from nothing. She wasn’t rolling in money like Max was, but she made her way, and she liked the independence it gave her.

“How about we do this? Let’s set the logistics of our living arrangements aside for this weekend. Let’s spend it with you getting to know my family, enjoying the fresh country air, and we’ll talk about how we’re going to work this out when the weekend’s done—because we
will
work this out, and we do have to talk, JC. Okay?”

The tension in her spine eased a little, her brain and her fears quieting. He wanted to figure this out. How they’d do that, she didn’t know. But his words comforted her. They spoke to her need to pin down whether they really
were
on the same page.

“Okay?” he asked again.

“Okay,” she agreed, releasing some of the tension on a long breath.

Kissing her lips, he cupped her ass, pressing the lower half of their bodies tight. “So, wanna see my collection of skins?”

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she giggled. “Oh, the things you say to entice me, Max Adams. It’s like being asked to the prom by the quarterback over and over.”

He unzipped her jeans, slipping his hand inside to stroke her belly, curving over the soft mound of flesh just below. “So can I see
your
skin?”

JC leaned back in his arms in mock surprise. “But don’t you want to give me a tour of your wicked crib first, Mr. Environmentalist?”

He trailed his tongue along the column of her neck. “Nope. Later. Right now I want to take a tour of your body somewhere here in my wicked crib. So let’s get naked.”

“Condoms,” she reminded, sliding from his grip and pulling her shrug denim jacket off as she sauntered into the living room to admire the fireplace. Grabbing a warm throw from the couch, she laid it on the floor and kicked off her flats.

Max was beside her in a matter of seconds, lifting her tank top over her head before pulling off his own shirt and boots, leaving him in nothing but socks and low-slung jeans. The lean vee of hipbones above his waistband made her mouth water, and as she’d become less inhibited due to Max’s freeing words, she’d learned to share her appreciation of his incredible body.

Sticking her finger inside the top of his jeans, she yanked him close, running her palms over his chest, tweaking the flat disc of his nipple until it was hard while Max popped the clasp of her bra, pulling the straps from her shoulders.

Bracing her hands on Max’s arms, JC dug her fingers into them as he pulled her jeans and panties down, his lips following their path to the floor.

Wrapping his arms around her waist, he took her nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue over it, nipping it with gentle teasing. Her sharp gasp echoed in her ears, the wet sting of heat licking between her legs.

Max rolled his tongue over her belly, kissing his way along the sensitive skin and down over the tops of her thighs. He parted her flesh with ease, his tongue slipping between her legs, creating that white-hot longing she so desperately loved.

Her hips began to move in a slow circle, letting Max’s tongue dip in and out of her, slow and slick in a delicious rhythm of soft mouth and teasing fingers.

When he slipped a finger inside her, she bucked against his hand, her legs growing weak, her pulse racing in frantic beats.

Max pressed her close to his mouth, sucking her clit, taunting it with the rasp of his tongue until her fingers clenched his hair and a soft moan escaped her lips. He cupped her ass with his free hand, kneading, driving into her with his finger until she came. Hard, sharp waves of silken heat stabbed at her, coursing through her body in rushes of vividly sweet release.

Max nibbled until she caught her breath, and then kissed his way back up to her mouth, letting her rest against him while she recovered. As her breathing slowed, her arms wrapped tight around his neck to pull him in close for a kiss.

Max brushed the hair from her eyes, moaning against her lips when she unzipped his jeans and shoved them off his hips. “I can’t wait for you to be inside me,” she whispered, inhaling his growl of pleasure.

Without ever leaving her lips, he rooted in his discarded jeans and found the condom, ripping it open, handing it to her to slide on. She took her time rolling it over his hard shaft, loving how thick he was, how rock-hard.

Max didn’t give her time to think before lying flat on the blanket, pulling her on top of him and gripping her hips, settling her over his cock and driving into her.

JC sighed her pleasure, letting her head fall back, resting her palms on Max’s chest, luxuriating in his cock deep within her.

He pulled her tight to him, driving his hands into her hair, taking her lips in a deep kiss, his tongue tangling with hers as they rocked in a tight embrace. He moved them together without missing a thrust, meshing their bodies, the slick sweat on their skin creating a magnificent glide of flesh.

She tasted herself on his lips—lips that brought the most carnal of pleasures, lips that moved over hers with finesse. JC savored the length of his shaft, tightening her muscles as her clit scraped against his skin, circling his cock with aggressive downward thrusts, riding him fiercely until the sweet/sharp offer of release clutched her.

Max came swiftly, too, roaring her name, digging his fingers into her hips, his muscles bulging and straining.

She slumped forward, pulling air into her lungs while languishing in his tight embrace, forcing away all thoughts of Max leaving Hoboken.

Max buried his hands in her hair and kissed the top of her head, his breath raspy. “Woman,” he murmured into her hair, “I think you’re going to kill me.”

JC giggled, squeezing her eyes shut to ward off the thoughts creeping into her head. “I think in some states we’re legally married now.”

“Would that be so bad?”

She stiffened. Not yet. She wasn’t ready yet. Pressing a finger to his lips, she shook her head. “Later.”

“Later,” he agreed, enveloping her in his arms and effectively shutting everything else out.

Chapter Sixteen

JC leaned back in the kitchen chair, content and full. She wiped her mouth with a napkin, sighing happily at the remnants of her beef stroganoff. “That was wonderful, Faith. Thank you for such a lovely meal.”

Max reached his hand across the table, entwining his fingers with hers and winking. “You outdid yourself tonight, Mom.”

Faith grinned at both her and Max. “I was out to impress your ma—”

There was a collective pause around the table, one JC didn’t understand as Avery, Natalie, and Derrick each froze in mid-motion.

“Your amazing girlfriend,” Faith corrected, turning to JC. “I’ll give you the recipe, if you like.”

JC nodded as everyone let out a sigh and reanimated. “I’d love your recipe for tuna noodle casserole, too, if you don’t mind. Max said it was a family secret and only you could give it out.”

Derrick rose from the table, taking his plate with him. “He made you tuna noodle casserole? Somebody’s got it bad,” he teased, his grin playful and so much like Max’s. “He only makes that for the women he really, really likes.”

JC cocked her head at Derrick. “And how many has he really, really liked?”

“None.” Max cut his brother off. “You’re the only one I’ve made tuna noodle casserole for.”

Warmed from the inside out, she rose, shaking a finger at Max. “Good answer, Adams. Now, how can I help, Faith?”

Faith rose, too, her slender hands reaching for serving dishes. “No, no. You’re our guest. Please, sit and relax. The girls will help clean up.”

JC waved a hand at her, gathering up the platter of crumbs that had held freshly made biscuits, light and airy and slathered with honey butter. “Not a chance.” She carried the platter over to the large sink, looking for the dish liquid.

Avery bumped her hip and shooed her away. “I’ll swap you dishes if you go get some newspapers for the fire. They’re just outside in the bin by the garage.”

“But there’s a mountain of dishes, Avery. I don’t mind. Really.”

Avery shook her head, the curtain of her hair swaying against her back. “Nope. We’ll let you do dishes the rest of the weekend. But tonight you relax and play houseguest.”

“Remember you said that. Tomorrow’s all mine.” She handed the sponge to Avery with a smile, threading her way through the kitchen and back toward the front door.

The noise of their banter as Max and Derrick finished clearing the table and the Adams women filled the sink made JC smile.

Growing up an only child was much quieter, but she loved the noise of the Adams household. She loved the warmth they appeared to share, loved the playful bickering amongst them.

She liked how they all leaned on each other and worked as a group.

She liked.

Pulling open the front door, JC shivered. It was colder here in Cedar Glen than in the city. The air had a crisper feel to it, but it was so beautiful.

And what did that mean for her and Max? His home was here, hers was in Hoboken.

Don’t think about it now. Don’t spoil this lovely time.

Rounding the corner of the house, she saw the bin where the newspapers were located. As she made her way along a brick path, the motion-sensor light that had switched on when she came outside suddenly blinked off, making it hard for her to see.

Hands out in front of her, she squinted, trying to get her eyes to adjust to the inky-black night.

That was when she heard it. At first it sounded like Fluffy when he ate a particularly good meal. He had a tendency to chew with his mouth open and make squishing noises.

Wild animal was her next thought, causing her to take a step back while she tried to make out the image in the darkness.

She cocked her head, listening for a moment before the noise stopped. Two more steps forward and she was almost to the bin.

Something skittered, shuffling in the leaves, stilled then groaned. That definitely sounded like Fluffy, leading her to believe it was probably one of Derrick’s dogs. He’d said he’d taken them home, but maybe they had a penchant for running away.