LILY

After Mom and I eat, we head back upstairs so I can say goodbye to Dad. He wants to know if I'm headed immediately to Montreal, and hedge.

"I've been invited to a cabin in Quebec for a couple of days."

"So cryptic." He frowns. "Is it with a man?"

I clear my throat. "It's a chance for a little rest and relaxation before the race. Don't worry, I'll be doing lots of work while I'm there. And it's only a couple of hours from the track in case I need to get there quickly before practice."

"How is everyone on the team treating you?" Dad asks.

"Good," I say slowly, and when he eyes me suspiciously, I quickly follow with, "excellent, actually. No problems so far."

"Esteban looked solid. And Max was superb as always."

"Yes, he was." I can't meet my mother's gaze because I'm worried I'll reveal too much. "Oh, look at the time. I have a plane to catch."

I kiss Dad, then Mom, goodbye, beg Mom not to kill my plants while they stay in my condo, and leave the hospital. As arranged, Max is already at the executive airport on the plane by the time I arrive, and we take off without any contact with the media. Max's presence at the charity event seems to have appeased them.

Once again, on the flight and the ride from the private airport in Canada to the cabin, we barely talk with each other beyond a few race details. I work on my laptop, and he's on his phone. But there are long, lingering looks, and every time I glance over at him, he's staring at me with a half-smile that cuts into my heart like a blade.

With every minute we spend together the air between us crackles and sparks like an electrical storm.

Somehow, not acknowledging each other's presence beyond business makes me even hotter, and the minute we get inside the cabin, we collide. I wrap him in a giant hug, and he lifts me off the floor, twirling me around.

"Don't you want to look around the cabin?" he asks. As he puts me on my feet, I slide slowly down his body.

I swivel my head and take in the new surroundings. It's a log cabin, decorated with a few tasteful moose knickknacks. Very Canadian. The furniture screams of luxury and pine, and the open floor plan with the living room-kitchen combo is pleasantly benign.

"I'd rather look around the bedroom."

He laughs and grabs my hand. "Let's go exploring, then."

It doesn't take long for us to find the master bedroom, or for me to wrap my arms around him and press my lips against his neck.

Max and I move together toward the bed as we kiss, a fierce, quick dance that ends when the backs of my knees hit the bed. He presses me back and cages my body with his hands. We're still kissing, and the reality of what we're doing makes everything a little off-kilter, as if the world is tilting off its axis because of our intensity together.

I tug at the hem of his T-shirt and he impatiently strips it away so my fingers can stroke his sinewy, powerful chest. He abruptly stands, just out of my grasp, and I'm about to protest when he undoes his jeans and lowers them, and his underwear, to the ground, kicking off his shoes.

He laughs a little when he sees me staring at his erection. He's heartbreakingly beautiful, too handsome for me. The sun has made his skin a light tan, his hair golden and his eyes a crystal blue.

"I like," I murmur, reaching for him.

We move into the middle of the bed.

"Your turn," he says, slowly skimming his hand under my shirt. I wriggle out of my shirt and he traces the lace on my bra, the spot just over my nipple.

"This is a very pretty piece of lingerie."

"I have matching panties."

"Let me see."

I raise my hips and slide off my skirt, revealing the matching black lace panties. He sucks in a breath as he studies me.

"I love looking at you," he finally says.

His fingertips slowly skim down my stomach and lower. I open my legs a little and he traces the edge of my panties. He starts with the elastic band just below my bellybutton, then trails his fingers to the band circling my right leg. His touch teases, and I'm getting wetter by the second.

If only he'd move a few inches.

I shift impatiently and whimper a little, hoping his fingers will make contact with the most desperate, needy part of me. He chuckles and strokes my leg, sending another electric current right to my clit.

With an even slower journey, he traces the inside of my thigh, all the way up to my pussy. And that's when he makes tantalizing, maddening circles right over my clit.

"So wet," he whispers. His eyes are half lidded, lazily going from my face to my body.

"Max," I murmur.

"Yes, baby?"

"I want..." my voice dies as his circling becomes more insistent. I could almost come like this, but almost isn't going to cut it. I need his fingers on me. In me.

"Tell me. What do you want, Lily?"

"You know."

"I need to hear it." He dips his head to kiss me. "Do you want my tongue down there?"

"No," I pout.

"Then what?" His fingertips stroke my labia, driving me almost out of my mind with need.

"Touch me."

"I am touching you."

Dammit, he knows he's teasing. He knows what he's doing to me.

"My clit. Please?"

"Your clit? Hmm. Let's see. Do I remember where your clit is?"

"Hush. This is no time to joke," I hiss.

His hand dips under my panties and I exhale a yeah.

An open-mouthed smile forms on his face when his fingers slide through my folds. Somehow, he manages avoid my clit. "You are soaked."

"Please?" I'm not above begging.

He slides a finger inside me. "Please what?"

"You know."

He slowly plunges into me, dipping two fingers in and out. "I don't know if I do. Maybe I've forgotten."

Damn him and his teasing. "Make me come. Please? Touch me until I come."

His lips are against my ear. "I've always loved when you beg me."

I whisper a plaintive please again and he eases his fingers out, sliding them millimeter by agonizing millimeter up to my clitoris.

"Here?" He's finally found it.

"Yes. There. Please, please?"

"Like this?" He circles slowly and I feel like a ripe fruit about to burst. I shut my eyes, wanting to concentrate only on the sensation.

"Just like that."

"You're going to come for me, aren't you?"

I can't speak, can't form the word yes, because I can only moan. He circles faster, using a little more pressure, and a wave of pleasure hits my core.

"Oh," I finally cry out, a jolt of release striking my bundle of nerves. I chant his name and arch my back into the air, feeling a jolt of pleasure shake through me. I thrust my hips into his hand and he maintains the same fast, furious pace until I fall over the edge.

I clutch the duvet in one hand and gasp aloud. Probably the bodyguards staying in the cabin next door can hear me, but I don't care because this is the best orgasm I've had in years. Like a body rocking, soul shattering, life draining release.

Max wrings out a few more pulsing, throbbing remnants of my orgasm with his fingers. He knows that my orgasms last a while — at least they do with him — and a second shock rips down my spine and leaves me shuddering. He keeps moving his hand, slowly undulating, circling and soothing, and I let go once again.

Finally, I'm finished and I slowly float back to earth and am finally relaxed. My muscles feel like Jell-o.

He nuzzles my cheek and I can feel his smile against my skin. I'm acutely cognizant that my face is bathed in sweat, that my pussy is coated in my own wetness.

I'm also hyperaware that Max's arousal is pressing against my hip, a reminder that this is nowhere near over, and that I get to enjoy him for two whole, glorious, uninterrupted days.

"Was that adequate?" he asks in an amused voice.

I sit up and unhook my bra while grinning. "You know it was much more than adequate. You know exactly what you do to me."

"I've never forgotten." He reaches for my breasts but I squirm out of his touch so I can take off my panties. It's an interesting statement, but I don't dwell on it because I have more carnal needs right now.

"Where are the condoms?" I ask, wanting more.

Wanting it all, from him.

When we're finished, I grow drowsy in his arms. The bedroom has a large, floor-to ceiling bank of windows overlooking a vista of green, rolling mountains. The sun's about to set, and everything feels like a dream.

"I could stay here forever," I murmur.

Max kisses my forehead. "Me too."

I remember what Mom said earlier, about asking Max what he has planned for the future. Now would be a good time, but I'd rather not ruin this perfect moment. Long ago, Mom had taught me something else.

Never ask a question that you don't want the answer to.