and sweet, and goddamn, she smelled good. Like chocolate and strawberries and temptation.
Then she rested a hand on his thigh and shifted forward so their bodies were even closer. She licked her lips, her tongue tracing the seam of her mouth. His dick responded as if that was a handwritten invitation to the party. Still, Max waited. Slowly, she leaned in. Her wet, warm mouth pressed against his, parting a little, catching his top lip first, then his bottom. So he kissed her, tasting more this time, letting his mouth linger on the tangy, seductive flavor of dessert and desire on her lips. So much desire.
A sigh. A ragged breath. Her breasts brushed against his chest, and her hand tightened on his thigh. If she slid it a little higher—no. Not tonight.
Instead Max focused on the kiss. She tilted her head for a slow, sensual dance with her mouth. He answered, using each stroke of his tongue to show her all the things he could do to her, all the ways he could please her. Then her kisses turned greedy, full of pure, unleashed want, and he groaned and went for more. Plans, even thoughts, faded, and all that was left was Natasha. His hand was tangled in her hair, pulling her closer as he devoured the taste of her. Nothing else existed, just the hot strokes and nips of her kisses.
Her hand moved up his leg, and she took hold of his shirt. His cock was begging to get in on the action. He wanted her up on his lap, straddling him so he could slide his hands under that dress, up her thighs until—no.
Max pulled back, breaking off the kiss. He took a steadying breath. Whoa. That was...intense. She looked a little dazed, and he was feeling about the same.
“I want you, Natasha. Just a couple days in paradise, no strings attached,” he whispered. Okay, he wanted more than a couple of days, but that wasn’t in the cards for them. Her body had already told him hell, yes. Now he just had to convince her mind to listen for once.
Max pressed on. “What do you think? Maybe the rules don’t apply in Queensland?”
OH. MY. GOD.
How had she gone all these years without knowing the way good kissing made her feel? She had always thought kissing was a bit mundane, but that one had been...different. The experience shouldn’t even be called kissing. It was so much more intimate. There had been a moment when the constant commentary in her mind had stopped. Time had stopped. It was...
Ugh, was she waxing poetic about the kisses of Australia’s favorite player? Natasha resisted an eye roll. Of course Max was amazing at it. The rumors about him had to be based on some kernel of truth. And if his kisses were that all-consuming, he was definitely a good bet for a few days of relaxation and naked fun.
Maybe he was right; the rules shouldn’t apply in the state of Queensland. A few days of no-strings sex with Max Jensen on a secluded tropical island, away from inquiring minds. Yep, she was really considering this fling.
Natasha bit her lip. “What am I agreeing to?”
“You want a preview?”
“You’re not going to flash me, are you?” she asked dryly.
Max chuckled. His laugh was infectious. She was trying to keep a straight face, but it was a losing battle. So she smiled, watching him. Damn, she was in so much trouble. But what a relief it would be to stop resisting all that charm, to stop thinking about all the ways it could go wrong and just enjoy Max for a few days. By the end of those few days, perennial playboy Max would be ready to move on, and she would be sexed up enough to get back to real life.
Max’s gaze had shifted from amused toward hot.
“I’ll be working during the travel portions of the trip, but on the island I’m just there to make sure Alya’s not walking around alone. The magazine has its own security measures in place, so I’m mostly just backup support for your sister,” he said. “A couple days on an isolated island, and we’ll have time alone while Alya is working,” said Max in his deep, obscenely sexy voice. Then he waggled his eyebrows. “Plenty of time to look for your favorite kinds of fish sex.”
Natasha groaned. “I really think you have the wrong impression about—”
“Sex?” He cut her off, making the word sound obscenely hot with his deep voice. “I doubt it.”
His smile faded and his lips parted, the way they had when he was about to kiss her. Damn, she wanted to kiss him again. The kitchen was silent again, the air thick and electric. She played with the half-empty glass on the table in front of her. She could totally do this. A couple days wasn’t enough to turn her into a needy, crazy mess, à la her mother, no matter how potent his charm was...right?
She glanced over at Max, who was covering an amused smile with his hand. Like he was already three steps ahead of her, thinking about much dirtier ideas. Like he was planning.
Natasha stood up, and Max’s eyes moved slowly up her body like a long, hot lick. The effect echoed in warm rushes of pleasure. And the man wasn’t even touching her yet. Somewhere her brain was making its last-ditch warning efforts, but she buried those thoughts. Just a few days. Nothing more.
Max stood up right in front of her, the heat radiating from his body. She had never just stared at him like this. His nose was a little crooked, no doubt from his rugby days, and his eyes had flecks of gray in all that blue. His dark blond hair was tousled and his smile was dark and hungry.
“Hmm... It’s worth considering...” she conceded with a little smile.
“No one has to know,” he whispered, his words rasping in her ears. “Just you and me and all the dirty things you’re dying to try. Is that what you want?”
She bit her lip. He wanted her in a way Wayne never had. And if she were completely honest with herself, which tended not to be a good idea when it came to the topic of men, she was hot for Max in a way she never had been about Wayne.
“There are definitely things I’d want to try with you,” she said, her voice coming out husky.
His lips brushed against her neck. “I can think of all kinds of things you might like.”
God, so could she. Natasha had actively resisted thoughts about naked Max, but once she let her guard down, the images were right there in X-rated detail. She flashed to the image of him over her, his eyes hungry, his biceps flexing, his thick, hard cock nudging her.
Natasha let out a soft moan and pressed herself flush against him.
“Damn, sweetheart,” he groaned, his teeth grazing over her skin. “Tell me what you’re thinking about.”
She shook her head slowly. No way in hell was she going to describe that scene aloud. It was so...average, so typical. She needed to go for something a little more creative than that. Or maybe she needed a new approach to making out with Max.
Natasha smiled a little. “Actually, I’m ready to stop thinking.”
She took off her glasses and set them on the table. Then she reached around his neck and coaxed his mouth down to hers. A soft brush of her lips, then another. Oh, my, she was kissing him again, and he tasted good. She dragged her tongue over his bottom lip and bit down. Max froze, and she pulled back. Was that too much?
Then he swore under his breath, and they went from zero to overdrive in an instant. Their mouths collided, his tongue found hers, matching her need, her hunger, stroke by stroke. Natasha gasped in breaths, giving in to the surge of pleasure coursing through her. His mouth teased hers with hungry promises, tempting suggestions of what would come next, if she just let go. So she did it. She let go, losing herself in the warmth of his big, hard body, taking everything she wanted. He backed her up until she was pressed against the heavy kitchen table. She wove her hands into his hair, tugging him closer, searching for that same bliss of their kiss moments before. Oh, yes. She couldn’t get enough of him. His hands explored her waist, her hips, as his lips