Max (A Carter Brother series Book 4) (11 page)

“Knew you’d like it rough,’’ he winks. He leaves me there to follow Antonio into the kitchen.

If Antonio is shocked by my behaviour or by Max, neither of them show it. I’m still stunned I even raised my hand to another person, let alone followed through with it. I’ve never hit anyone in my life, or started a fight, and I blame Max entirely for the whole incident. Something about him sets me in every possible way imaginable. It’s not just the violent reaction and the snappy comebacks but the desire, the lust, the way he makes me happy and helps me forget everything that’s ever happened in my life. It’s been that way since the dickhead got me caught sleeping in the shed at the food bank. Maybe that’s it, maybe it’s hate I’m constantly feeling towards him and those other things are just karma’s way of confusing me.

That doesn’t answer why you can’t stop being around him or why you are always thinking about him, Lake.

I’m such a plebhead. I need to get a grip and lose the fascination or whatever the hell it is with Max. I know all too well not to trust lads, especially ones like Max. They will shit on you the second another vagina gives them attention. And by attention I mean walking into a room.

It doesn’t help the only boyfriend I’ve ever had not only cheated on me but is part of the reason I’m here. If it had not been for his involvement I wouldn’t have been in that car, I wouldn’t have lost what I did and I wouldn’t wish I could take my brother’s place every second of every day. That’s where trusting a lad got me: homeless with no family, no friends, and feeling like an outsider. So, trusting Max? Who, by the way, has the power to take everything away from me once again? Not going to happen.

Ever!

And something tells me letting him in will cost me a lot more. My heart is already broken but Max has the power to mend it, but having it break again? The aftermath will kill me.

“Are you going to stand there all day staring at the ground or are you going to come try this breakfast? It’s fucking awesome,’’ Max grins and my heart pounds faster just hearing his voice. How can he be so calm and collected? Why isn’t he freaking out about all of this right now?

Staying away from him and not trusting him is going to be harder than I imagined. Just his cheeky handsome face has me melting towards him.

I just need to remind myself he called my cat a rat. That should do it.

I shrug my shoulders and follow Max behind the bar and into the kitchen. When I enter, the aroma of food has my belly rumbling.

It smells like heaven in here. It reminds me of walking inside my house on a Sunday and instantly smelling the roast dinner my mom would always have cooking. It was the best smell in the world. But smelling this right now, I have to admit, is much better.

“Max tell me you call your rat Splinter? Why you buy a rat, piccola ragazza? My good friend Roberto has dogs. I get you a good deal on dog,’’ Antonio emphasises and I shake my head before turning to roll my eyes at Max.

“Joan found a kitten, we’re keeping him. He’s not a rat and he’s called
Thor
, not Splinter,’’ I growl out, kicking Max in the shin.

I really do need to stop hitting him. One day I may permanently damage the poor sod.

“I’m going to press charges the next time you hit me. It’s called freaking child abuse,’’ Max hisses out, glaring at me. His jaw is hard but it makes the outline of his dimples more profound. I can’t help but feel the look makes him look hotter.

“Bite me,’’ I snap, trying not to let the look he gives affect me.

“Your wish is my command,’’ he winks, his eyebrows wiggling up and down.

“Of course it is,’’ I answer dryly.

“You two, so young, so much in love. It’s so powerful. I feel it in the room,’’ Antonio announces, gushing. I’m stuck on a comeback to say as he places a plate of food in front of me, making my mouth water. I don’t even bother asking what it is; I just start shovelling food into my mouth and it tastes better than it smells.

“Nah,’’ Max says, waving him off with a serious expression and my body relaxes. He’s done teasing, I think, but then he finishes chewing to continue to speak and again, I’m back to hating him. “It’s all the sexual tension between us that you’re feelin’, my man. Isn’t it, my sugar plum?’’

“If you say so,
my little pea
,’’ I growl sweetly.

“I do, princess,’’ he replies, moving a strand of hair from off my cheek.

I scoff, hating it when a lad calls a girl princess. It’s just another way of informing them they’re high maintenance, to me anyway.

“What do you think, piccolo ragazza?’’ Antonio asks eagerly, motioning to the food.

I’d been so annoyed with Max that I totally missed what I was supposed to do. I look down to my plate and notice that it’s already empty. I give Antonio a wide grin ready to tell him I love it when Max leans over me, his aftershave making me lean in closer.

Has he always smelled this good?

Of course he has
, I mutter to myself.

“You look like you’re about to become a serial killer, tone down the smile,’’ Max whispers and my face falls.

“It was yummy, now tell me, what was it?’’

“Mushroom and sausage omelette,’’ he tells me, looking at me like I’m crazy.

I look at Antonio, surprised, then back down to my plate. Max and his damn kiss have my mind jumbled. Nothing is registering.

“What did you think it would be? Snails and frogs?’’ Max laughs and I snap my head to him.

“Um, not to piss on your cornflakes and all, but it’s the French that eat snails and frogs,’’ I laugh and glance gratefully at Antonio when he places two cappuccinos in front of me and Max.

“Oh yeah, well, shit,’’ he laughs back, not caring he just sounded like a complete dork. It just makes me smile wider at him.

“Next week I make you dinner, my favourite meatballs,’’ Antonio suggests. “You come here about five, I have table ready for you and wine,’’ he winks at Max and Max grins back. Me? I’m obviously missing something.

“Um, we’re not usually here that late,’’ I mention, making sure they remember.

“You go on proper date,’’ Antonio dismisses me and starts picking up the empty plates. Quickly thinking, I grab hold of his wrist to stop him.

“I’ll get this; you sit down and eat, talk, or do what you Italians do,’’ I smile and get up to take the washing up over the wash up area. Max joins me a few minutes later, carrying some other bits and bobs.

“Come on. Let’s get this done so we can go see how Splinter is doing. You don’t want Harlow getting her hands on it; she’ll end up keeping it,’’ he chuckles, helping me load the dishwasher.

I gasp, not thinking about Harlow and Thor. As soon as she sees him she’s going to fall in love with him. Who wouldn’t? Oh yeah, that’s right, bloody Max.

“She wouldn’t,’’ I affirm, turning to face him and in doing so I bring the jet wash with me, soaking Max to the bone. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry,’’ I choke out, trying hard not to laugh. His t-shirt is clinging to his tight sculptured abs, showcasing every defined ridge on his stomach. His hair is completely drenched; water running down his face, dripping off at his strong, cut jaw. No longer able to hold it in anymore, I crack up right in his face. My laughter loud and shameless and from the look on his face he is not impressed but it just has me bending over, my side hurting from laughing even harder.

“You think that’s funny do ya?’’ he demands, the warning there laced heavily from the tone of his voice. Straightening up ready to give him some sass, I notice his hand moving in my peripheral vision. A startled squeal escapes and my body turns ready for an escape but his hands land around my waist swinging me back towards him.

“Noooo,’’ I laugh when he tries to wet me. I push his hand away with all my strength, my laughter still filling the room when I’m sprayed. My ass slams back into his groin, trying to push him away, but all it does is cause another reaction – a reaction Max likes all too well. The nozzle falls with a thud back into the sink, the loud clang echoing around the kitchen. “Please, I’m sorry, I swear it won’t happen again.’’

“Oh, you’ll pay, Lake,’’ he mocks.

When I feel his body heat against mine, I all too soon become aware of how close he’s standing behind me, his groin pressed into my ass and his soaked front pressed to my back. Laughter dies in my throat, my body turning so I come face to face with Max. His face has lost its earlier smugness, the teasing expression now wiped away and a hankering of undisguised desire now in its place. We’re both silent, both of us lost in our own thoughts. So lost in my own thoughts, my gaze entirely focused on his full lips, I’m surprised when I find them moving towards me as if in slow motion. Then everything falls away and all I can concentrate on is his touch, his lips, and how good it feels kissing him.

I’m so lost in the kiss, in the moment, that I find myself pressing closer to him, wanting to feel his body wrapped around mine and before I can stop myself, I’m throwing my arms around his neck and wrapping my legs around his waist. Also lost in the moment, Max none too gently shoves me into the washer, grinding his pelvis into mine, the contact causing me to moan into his mouth. The hands he has under my ass to support me, tighten to the point his fingers bite into my skin.

Our soaked shirts stick together, my thin top leaving nothing to the imagination as Max glides his now free hand up my ribs to my chest before grabbing more than a handful of my boob. He makes a sound of appreciation at the back of his throat which spurs me on and I find myself rocking my body against him. It feels good. Really good. And with his warm hands touching one of the most intimate places it has me feeling explosive.

I can’t get enough.

But it’s all too much.

Then a loud girly squeal breaks whatever spell Max has me under. Quickly we break a part, both of us breathing heavily and staring into each other’s eyes where again we both begin to feel lost, so lost that when I hear a faint voice, reality comes slamming into me, the force nearly choking me.

“Shit,’’ I hiss, pushing Max away as he slides me to my feet. It doesn’t go unnoticed that he keeps me as close to his body as he can and I hate that I liked it. “This can’t happen again. We’re two different people,’’ I snap, all my anger pushed into those few sentences. It breaks my heart saying them but he needs to know.

I don’t let him defend himself; I rush over to where my coat is and grab it before rushing out of the kitchen and into the bar where a waving Antonio is grinning. Too angry and embarrassed I don’t stop and give him a snappy comeback, instead, I hightail it out of there.

 

Back at the house, Joan is in the kitchen finishing off a call. She smiles when she sees me but then her eyes do a double take which has her losing her smile. I’m starting to wish I’d headed upstairs when I first came in but it feels rude not stopping and talking. I should have, though. It’s no telling what a mess I look like.

“What’s wrong?’’

“What?’’ I ask breathlessly. I hadn’t stopped running until I hit the front door, even then I wanted to run through it, up to my room and dive under my cushions.

“You look like you’ve just run the London Marathon,’’ Joan says, looking at me like I’ve peed on her floor.

“Oh, spider,’’ I wave her off, still trying to catch my breath. That’s when I see Thor on the kitchen floor coming towards me. I bend down and pick him up, snuggling him in my arms. He immediately falls asleep and my heart soars.

So effin’ cute.

“Do you need me to do anything? I was going to go to my room?’’ I ask, still looking down at the kitten snoring lightly in my arms.

See? Totally cute. He’s made me feel better already.

“No, no, dear. Just make sure you’re down here for dinner at half five. We’re having a family dinner.’’

The word ‘family’ hits me in the chest hard, taking my breath away and the need to reach out and rub the ache away is extreme.

“Okay,’’ I whisper, turning and heading back to my room.

 

In my room I lay down on the bed, bringing Thor with me still cuddled safely on my chest. The minute my eyes close from the emotional exhaustion, the mobile phone Joan had given me the week before beeps from the floor. I know who it is straight away. There has only been one person to even text me since I had it. Since I don’t go anywhere no one really has any need to get hold of me.

I did try telling Joan when she gave it to me that it was pointless giving it to me and a total waste of her money but she wouldn’t listen to my reasoning. Now I wish I had stuck to my guns and made her take it back.

Getting a text is far worse than receiving a phone call. People tend to write what they really mean on a message, finding it easier to communicate. It can also be interpreted differently and admittedly I’m shit scared of what Max has to say.

MAX: I’ve never made a girl run from me before.

Breathing in a relaxed breath, feeling that wasn’t as bad I originally thought it was going to be, I hesitantly reply.

LAKE: There’s a first time for everything.

MAX: Yes, there is. Why did you run?

LAKE: Because I don’t want you kissing me.

I type furiously, my temper beginning to rise. Is it so hard to believe not every girl is going to fall for his charms and bow down to him?

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