PART NINE

Michael peered through the order window and watched Liz sachet across the café floor, carrying an order tray to table nine. Ever since they’d made peace earlier, he’d noticed such a bounce enter her steps—couldn’t help but see how transformed she was, and how she seemed to be swinging her hips. Was she trying to drive him crazy with need? And why hadn’t he ever noticed how short those little uniforms were? Jeff Parker had to be crazy to put his daughter in such a revealing outfit, Michael thought with a frown.

It was amazing, but after confessing his insecurity to Liz, somehow the overpowering anxiety had dissipated. She’d been so gentle with him, and unbelievably forgiving, and something about that had left him feeling safe. And though Michael knew his battles weren’t over, he’d relaxed after their encounter outside. Just telling her what was on his mind, how scared he felt about their new relationship, had been a balm to his soul. And then the way her lovely face had begun to beam again, like when he’d first seen her early this morning, had chased away any remnants of darkness.

At least for today.

So he was reduced to staring at Liz through the order window at every possible juncture, his eyes wandering over her subtle curves…and down the length of her graceful legs. How was it that he’d never noticed how beautiful her legs were in that uniform, how like a dancer’s? And even now she nearly pirouetted right over to him, a huge smile lighting her face.

Michael scowled possessively as he noticed a couple of guys checking her out from across the cafe. Liz’s expression darkened. "What?" She asked and Michael leaned closer toward her through the window, propping his forearms up as he peered through.

"That’s a damn short skirt, Liz."

She stared at him mutely for a moment, and then he noticed her cheeks suddenly stain a deep red, as her eyes widened with anger. "Excuse me?" She asked, leaning closer toward him through the window. His teasing had riled her up so easily, and something about that was wildly sexy to him…he found himself suppressing a huge grin at her reaction.

"There are guys out there… staring at your legs," he pronounced, even as he felt his mouth turn up slightly at the corners.

She glanced over her shoulder in surprise, and then turned back toward him, planting her arms on the order window with a defiant lift of her chin. "Who?"

Michael tossed his head in the direction of one booth in particular. "Right there."

Liz looked again, but only saw two college guys laughing over a couple of burgers. "Michael Guerin… you’re jealous." Her cheeks flushed more deeply, and she smiled now.

"Damn straight…you’ve been out there trying to drive me crazy with that little hip action thing all afternoon."

Liz grinned flirtatiously, her eyes narrowing. "Oh, so you noticed that."

"I’m not blind," he stated, rolling his eyes.

"You like?" She teased coyly, arching an eyebrow, and Michael felt his heart beat more rapidly at her flirtatiousness. He ran his fingers lightly over her arm where she’d propped it on the windowsill. It was a gesture no one else could have seen, nor were they meant to…and stealing it so publicly only caused Michael to desire her more.

"You’ve left me needing a cold shower." His voice was low and filled with need.

"Oh, well it definitely worked then."

"Try it again at my place later—here you’re making me crazy," he complained.

"That was the idea," she laughed throatily, grabbing her order pad. "Gotta run!" she teased over her shoulder, doing her best to swing her small hips right in Michael’s clear view as she moved away from him. She swore she heard him groan, though she knew it had to be her imagination.

***

Liz handed the telephone to Michael when he reached the counter, and then stood listening to his conversation with Max. The jeep had broken down out on the desert highway, and Max needed someone to come meet him where he was waiting for a tow truck. Michael was sweaty from the kitchen, and wiped at little beads of perspiration that had formed on his forehead with the back of his arm as he listened.

"My shift ends in fifteen minutes," he explained into the receiver, as he glanced up at the clock. "So I can come for you then." Michael’s eyes met Liz’s and he smiled softly. "What are our plans tonight?" He asked, never looking away from Liz.

I get off at six, Liz mouthed.

"Liz gets off at six, so why don’t we all hang out at my place," Michael suggested. "I could make us dinner."

Great plan,Liz mouthed again and Michael nodded silently as he listened to Max. "Liz thinks it’s a great plan, too." Michael smiled, as he began doodling on her order pad absently as he talked. "Yeah, see you in a few."

Michael hung up the phone and stared at her for a moment. "So, I’m going to pick him up and we’ll just… meet you at my place? How’s that sound?"

"Perfect."

Purrrrfect, she thought with a giggle, arriving at a plan of her own.

****

Michael pulled his motorcycle onto the shoulder of the highway where Max leaned against the jeep waiting for him. Something about his loose stance against the rugged vehicle immediately aroused Michael as he kicked down the stand to support the bike. He eased the helmet off his head, with a toss of his hair and Max smiled sexily at him.

Max liked what he saw too, Michael realized as he threw his leg over the bike and walked toward him.

"I never thought a motorcycle could look so sexy," Max said quietly, his eyes locking with Michael’s.

"Never thought a jeep could either," Michael laughed. "Well… actually I’ve thought this jeep was pretty damn sexy for a while now." Max’s eyes darkened with desire, as Michael stepped closer toward him, running a shaky hand through his hair.

"The gear shift, right?" Max laughed huskily, staring up at Michael.

"Oh, yeah that’s it, Maxwell. Keep kidding yourself."

Max felt himself hardening at the little interplay between the two of them, especially because Michael had looked outrageously sexy when he stepped off the bike, his hair so tousled. In the distance, Max heard the rumble of the approaching tow truck right as he saw it.

"There they are," Max announced and they immediately distanced themselves from one another physically, stepping back a bit. Max noticed Michael’s subtle adjusting of his pants and grinned in satisfaction.

***

The tow truck pulled out onto the highway, and Max blinked as it kicked dust up off the shoulder, and into his eyes a bit. The sun had already begun lowering in the desert sky, painting the world around them with deep crimson and golden hues. It was one thing Max loved about this time of year—the sunset became even more exquisite.

"So, let’s go," Michael pronounced, handing Max an extra helmet for him to use. Max stared down at it awkwardly, fumbling with the chinstrap.

"I’ve never…actually…"

"Ridden with me," Michael finished with a shy smile. "Yeah, I know." He took the helmet from Max and unfastened the strap, returning it to him. "I think you’re gonna like it."

"Really?" Max raised an eyebrow flirtatiously. "Now why would that be?"

"It’s a guy thing, Maxwell," Michael explained in mock-seriousness. "You know, we just really love the whole phallic imagery…big powerful bike between our legs. All that."

Max laughed and felt his face flush at Michael’s words as he secured the helmet on his head.

"Guess the engine can get pretty hot if you’re not careful."

"Absolutely," Michael agreed, reaching to tighten Max’s chinstrap. "And you know, there’s the whole way it rumbles and vibrates…"

"Right between your legs."

"Exactly," Michael nodded, fastening his own helmet, but Max didn’t miss how Michael’s face had turned a subtle crimson. Michael slung his leg over the bike, lifting up as he revved the engine. Max noticed that the bike rocked a bit as it roared dramatically to life. Michael glanced over his shoulder to Max, where he stood beside the motorcycle.

"Come on," Michael urged, gesturing with his head. Max stepped closer, slipping awkwardly onto the bike right behind Michael—and was instantly aware that his legs were open behind Michael in a very suggestive position. He felt oddly self-conscience at their intimate proximity, at how his groin pressed against Michael’s backside, as he slipped his hands loosely around Michael’s waist, barely grasping him at all.

"Max," Michael explained. "You gotta hold on tighter than that, or you might fall off."

"Yeah, sure." Max allowed his hands to tighten around Michael’s stomach, and in the process pressed his chest more closely against Michael’s back. Michael lowered the kickstand and they eased out onto the golden highway, the bike wobbling unsteadily a bit as it met the pavement.

The wind began slapping Max in the face, despite the helmet, but his only awareness was of his body pressing so close against Michael’s…of his chest against Michael’s back. Of the feel of his legs open around Michael, their thighs grazing together through their blue jeans, and how he’d begun to strain within his pants, flush against Michael’s backside.

Max allowed one tentative hand to wander lower on Michael, tracing a path down the front of his jeans, until he reached right between his legs. The sky was darkening over them, and the road was deserted, so he felt safe exploring Michael’s body like this.

Michael jolted a bit, as Max’s hand made contact with the place where his blue jeans bulged dramatically, and Max was relieved to know he wasn’t the only one this was affecting. He pressed a bit closer from behind, tightening his upper thighs against Michael and thrusting nearly imperceptibly in twin rhythm to what his hand was doing to Michael’s cock.

Michael’s breathing had grown erratic and Max could feel it in the way his back shuddered unevenly. Michael reached down and stilled Max’s hand against his thigh, slipping it silently back around his waist. Out on the highway like this, conversation was impossible.

But they were communicating quite well, Max thought with a smile. Michael allowed his hand to rest on top of Max’s momentarily, pressing it against his stomach tenderly. But when Michael moved to grasp the handlebar again, Max began a new journey with his fingertips, rubbing slowly upwards on Michael’s chest. Ahead a car approached, and Max quickly looped his wandering hand around Michael’s waist, as the pickup passed them in the opposite lane.

The truck engine grew loud, then disappeared behind them creating the Doppler effect, and then there was only the sound of the wind.

Now that they were alone again, Max rubbed Michael’s chest in upward circles, until he found a single nipple and stroked it through the soft cotton of Michael’s t-shirt. Max felt the nipple instantly harden in response to his sensitive touch. Michael dropped his hand loosely on Max’s thigh right behind him, and he stroked the side of Max’s upper leg slowly and seductively.

This was Michael telling him that he liked the feel of Max’s hand on his chest…all over him. This was Michael promising a lot more once they reached the apartment.

Max heard Michael shout something into the wind, but couldn’t make it out.

"What?" He called, leaning his face closer toward Michael’s.

"Later…just you wait," Michael shouted and this time Max heard clearly.

Max laughed a low rumble, allowing his hand to slide back low on Michael’s stomach, and this time he pressed Michael’s t-shirt up so that his palm rested on his bare abdomen.

Max pressed his fingers low within Michael’s waistband, rubbing the warm skin there as he squeezed his thighs tightly against Michael’s, rocking ever so gently against him from behind.

Later, Max laughed with an agonized groan, as Michael sped the bike dramatically. But not much longer at this rate.

***
Michael ambled into his apartment, flicking on an overhead light. The fall shadows were long and the apartment had grown dim with the late afternoon sun. Max sat down on his sofa and Michael strode toward the kitchen.

"Anything to drink?" Michael offered, opening his refrigerator.

"No, I’m okay. Thanks." Max replied. All the way to the apartment, Max had obviously been obsessed with need for his "partner in crime" as Liz had so wisely called Michael last night. Yeah, he could think of something that was illegal in a whole bunch of places that he’d like to do with Michael. He watched Michael throw his head back and gulp from his soda can. He was sweaty and hot from spending all day cooking at the Crashdown and that only fueled Max’s desire more.

Michael caught him staring at him and his eyes widened a bit, as he lowered the can.

"What?" Michael asked, laughing huskily.

Max just shook his head, swallowing hard, and was surprised to realize he felt suddenly very shy. Even after all their seductive touching on the bike, Max felt oddly exposed that Michael had caught him staring with such undisguised desire.

"Nothing," Max laughed softly, averting his eyes. He saw Michael’s television remote and grabbed it up quickly, eager to change the subject. The loud sounds of a football game instantly filled the apartment as Michael walked quickly toward him.

Michael stood just beside him, momentarily caught by the football game. "Oh, yeah. Texas A&M…I wanted to watch that," he explained, reaching for the remote in Max’s hand without moving his eyes off the television. Max handed it to him, but never expected Michael’s next action. With a flick of Michael’s thumb, the screen went black and he turned to face Max with a wicked grin.

"But there’s something else I’d much rather do right now, Maxwell," he laughed, his voice husky and filled with desire.

Max gulped as Michael dropped to his knees just in front of him, leaning in for a kiss.

"I’m glad you feel that way because…" Max’s voice drifted off as Michael pressed in closer.

"Because?" Michael teased gently. Their lips met, and Max grew instantly erect. Max slipped his hands around Michael’s neck, running them through his hair. Michael kept pressing light little kisses against Max’s lips, but not deepening them yet. "Tell me," Michael urged.

"Because I’m dying for you…all the way here, this is all I could think about," Max confessed against his cheek. "You’re all I could think about."

Michael smiled slowly, his cheeks flushing a bit. "I’m glad to hear that," he breathed, trailing his hands up Max’s thighs until slowly, he slipped one right between his legs. "Because I felt the same way."

Michael stroked his fingers against Max right where he strained within his jeans, his touch electrifying him instantly. Back and forth, Michael’s fingers began a slow but strong rhythm against the rough fabric of Max’s pants. Max drew in a ragged breath, leaning his head back against the couch as he gripped Michael’s shoulders. "Oh, Michael," he sighed, his chest began falling with heavy pants. "You’re amazing. The way you touch me is so…"

"Amazing?" Michael offered gently, leaning in closer between Max’s legs.

"Yeah."

Max closed his eyes, just drinking in Michael’s scent, allowing his masculine energy to surround him. He didn’t just feel keenly aroused at Michael’s touch, he felt blazing fire there, searing and intense even with his clothes on. Max couldn’t help but moan a bit as Michael began toying with his pants button, but then Michael halted.

Max’s eyes snapped open and he leaned his head forward in surprise as Michael began easing back to his feet.

"I have an idea," Michael stated quietly, extending his hand to Max.

"What?" Max managed to gulp, taking Michael’s warm hand in his own.

"Come shower with me," Michael explained, his brown eyes dancing suggestively. "I need to get clean from work."

Max drew in a quick breath, standing unsteadily. The idea of a shower had never sounded more erotic to him in his life.

****

Michael had led Max right into his small bathroom, and turned the shower faucet on. After placing his hand in the cold stream for a moment, he’d realized it would take the sluggish hot water heater a while to warm up, and had turned back to where Max stood snaking his shirt over his head.

Once Max’s rippled chest was bare, Michael had stepped quickly toward him, kissing him heatedly. Michael had backed Max right against the closed bathroom door, devouring his mouth—and Max his in return. Max wanted him badly, of that Michael was certain. Something about last night had only unlocked more need and desire between the two of them—even with as vulnerable as Michael had felt all day, his hunger for Max had only intensified.

The thought of Max’s skin-- wet and slick against his own in the shower-- drove him wild. He felt Max’s own desire pressing right against his leg and adjusted himself so that their cocks brushed right together. He thrust hard against Max who let out a helpless little cry that only aroused Michael even more strongly.

He broke their kiss, gasping softly. "Maxwell…what are you doing to me?" Michael planted his hands on either side of Max, so that Max was framed against the door right between his arms.

"I-I…don’t…know," Max managed to stammer, staring up at him with a deliciously helpless expression. "A better… question is… what are you doing to me?"

Michael quickly began unbuttoning Max’s jeans. "Undressing you…and damned quickly," Michael answered hoarsely, hurriedly easing Max’s pants off of his hips, which pooled at his feet, so that he stood only in his plaid cotton boxers. Michael stared down at him in satisfaction for a moment as he stepped out of his pants, observing how the soft fabric of his boxers jutted straight out. Now, Michael slowly eased the waistband lower, deliberately tantalizing Max by slipping his fingers beneath the elastic waistband, stroking his warm skin.

"Michael," Max begged hoarsely. "Please…" And Michael answered by shoving the boxers lower until Max sprang free. Michael cupped Max’s face within his hands and tilted it slightly upward, leaning in for a hungry kiss. The emotions between the two of them were different today, somehow Michael wanted to be the one in control and found the idea of leading Max highly arousing.

Max returned the kiss with surprising gentleness especially since his chest was heaving unevenly now. Michael knew that Max wasn’t feeling gentle—which made the love his lips transmitted even more evident. Michael’s eyes were pressed shut and he felt Max’s warm hands graze below his shirt, as Max eased Michael’s shirt over his head and then slipped his hands around his lower back, pulling him much closer next to him where he leaned against the bathroom door.

The feel of Max’s very bare body against his own jean-clad legs was oddly arousing, knowing how rough the material must feel against Max’s soft skin. It made Michael feel suddenly very masculine, being in Max’s arms like this, clad only in his faded jeans as his lover wrapped him so tightly against his bare body.

A lover as beautiful as Max would make any man feel incredibly masculine…sexy themselves, especially the way Max reacted to his attentions.

Something about today was causing their alien energy to bank quickly…more strongly, and it left Michael feeling dizzy with how his body burned. Max’s heat had begun searing him in his most intimate places.

Michael was dimly aware that steam had filled the bathroom, and thought he’d better get them in the shower now or they might not have any hot water. He broke the kiss, opening his eyes and found Max staring at him, flushed and wide-eyed.

"Shower?" Michael laughed hoarsely.

"Oh yeah…we were going to do that."

Michael unbuttoned his jeans, shimmying out of them as he watched Max open the glass shower door. In that moment, he was able to really see Max’s body, and was amazed at how thin and graceful his form was…he was so utterly beautiful that it caused Michael’s breath to hitch momentarily as he stared at him.

Steam instantly swirled around Max, breathing over his skin in a quick rush. He felt the water pelt him warmly and turned his face up into the full stream—anything to get a slight hold on himself. Michael had nearly taken him too far just now. Max ran his hands over his hair, allowing it to soak as he felt Michael step in behind him.

Then he really felt Michael step in behind him when his hands circled low around his waist from behind and he pressed his hard cock right between his legs.

"Oh, God," Max cried, catching himself against the slick tile wall in front of him. Water rolled down his back, between their two bodies as Michael rubbed his hands over Max’s shoulders lovingly-- right as he began gently thrusting his hips against Max, easing his erection slickly between his legs.

"Michael," Max moaned, pressing his eyes tightly shut.

"Maxwell," Michael answered in a husky voice, kissing him on the nape of his neck, allowing his lips to linger there. An answering heat roiled down Max’s spine and he shivered with it. He opened his eyes and rivulets of water began running down his cheeks as he tilted his head backward, leaning into Michael. Michael’s hands wandered up his chest and he felt a certain possessiveness in the way Michael was touching him—as if he was claiming him in some wholly new way, different than their previous joining.

And his every touch was so loving, even now as Michael traced circles around his nipples and Max felt them grow quickly firm beneath his touch. Max turned to glance at Michael over his shoulder and Michael leaned in for a kiss. They began kissing frantically and Max thought he’d lose his balance because the emotions were growing that heady. He was dizzy with the very taste of Michael.

Somehow in their kissing they’d done a slight turn so that now Max faced the side wall of the shower, yet still Michael was behind him. When he tried to face him, Michael gently turned him back away from him.

"I want it like this," Michael breathed into his ear. "Just like this."

Max trembled at the words because they implied something…something Max hadn’t yet contemplated. But Michael behind him just like this definitely indicated something was on Michael’s mind. And within a breath, he confirmed Max’s every thought.

"I want to make love to you." Michael spoke so quietly, Max wasn’t sure he’d heard him at all. Or perhaps he’d heard what he wanted to hear.

"Wh-what?" Max stammered.

Michael stroked the damp hair along the nape of his neck, pressing light kisses against his skin there. "I want to make love to you, Max," he murmured against his wet neck. "Please."

Max could only remain silent as his mind raced…as Michael trailed his hands lower and lower on his abdomen, until he took him right within his palm. Max caught himself against the slick tile wall again, and Michael placed his other palm right on top of his hand, leaning close against his back.

The water from the shower pelted them lightly against their sides, as they stood like that, Michael pressing him closer against the cool tile wall as he began rubbing him within his palm. Max closed his eyes and savored the feel of their bodies together, so slick and wet, as Michael’s palm dropped away from his hand.

Max gasped when Michael touched him again, this time right behind, gently slipping his fingers into dangerous territory…easing them just inside, as he began a dual rhythm that caused Max to cry out his name over and over.

"You haven’t answered my question," Michael whispered softly behind him.

"I thought y-you…knew…" Max tried to speak, but it was beyond difficult. "What I want. Yes…yes…yes." He felt Michael’s fingers tighten more firmly around his cock, as he sped his rhythm and Max felt his whole body shudder as he exploded right within his hand. Michael’s hands stilled, and he pressed urgent kisses against Max’s neck and face.

"I love you," Michael murmured softly, as Max leaned his head against the tile, trying to catch his breath. He felt Michael reach over his shoulder, but was surprised a moment later when he felt him begin trailing the cool, slick lather of soap over his shoulders. Max felt his face flush, even in the warm water, at the intimate gesture. Slowly, lovingly, Michael began washing his back, his shoulders…his arms. No part of his body remained untouched by the slick soap, and each time Max tried to turn around, Michael urged him forward again. Something about the cool soap electrified Max’s skin all the more.

"Why, Michael?" He asked throatily, as Michael slowly lathered Max’s neck, rubbing the taut muscles there.

"Why what?"

"Why don’t you want me to face you?"

Michael was silent for a long moment and then finally spoke, as he placed the bar of soap back in the holder. "Because I wanted to make you feel things…without your worrying about me. I really meant what I said…I want to make love to you."

"And you will," Max promised in a husky voice. "But first, it’s your turn." And he reached for the bar of soap and faced Michael for the first time since they’d entered the shower. He couldn’t believe how Michael’s warm brown eyes had darkened with raw desire, nor the emotions he saw flickering in their depths.

Max leaned in to kiss him and their lips crushed together, as they took one another hungrily, tongues entwining in a dangerous way.

Michael deepened the kiss even further, closing his eyes and savoring the feel of Max’s lips against his own--of his body pressed so close as he threaded his fingers through Max’s wet hair. He sucked a tight breath in at the simple feel of Max’s wet tresses, how very sensual it was to touch him that way.

Max cupped Michael’s face within his hand, and he slowly broke the kiss, stepping back. He began lathering the bar of soap within his hands, then gazed up at Michael, suddenly seeming a little shy. Max began rubbing his palm in a slow circle over Michael’s chest, lower down his abdomen, and surprisingly slipped his slick fingers between Michael’s legs, lathering his most intimate area. Then Max soaped his hands some more and ran his fingers down his cock to the very base, and Michael shivered at the contact.

When he finished, Max looked up at him and brushed Michael’s wet locks off his forehead, his fingertips lightly grazing his skin.

"Where’s the shampoo?" He breathed and Michael reached over his shoulder for it, their gazes locked. Max poured a small amount of the liquid into his palm and began slowly washing Michael’s hair—and Michael nearly purred at the sensation. He closed his eyes and jolted when he felt Max’s lips press up against his, all the while his fingers working through his wet hair.

"See, I can be pretty useful, too," Max teased softly.

"Apparently," Michael laughed in a husky voice. "But it’s almost my turn again." Their eyes met meaningfully and Michael’s mouth turned up in a soft smile at the way Max’s cheeks flushed a deep red. That he still felt shy with him about anything at this point was charming.

"I’ll just rinse off," Michael said, stepping into the full stream of water, and allowed the pulsating flow to wash the soap from his hair. His eyes were closed, so it startled him when Max suddenly wrapped his arms around his neck, and kissed him lightly on the lips. Michael drew in a sharp breath at the feel of his slick cock slipping right between his legs.

"Ah, Maxwell," he breathed. "I want to make love to you so badly."

"Then do it," Max agreed huskily, and Michael smiled. He opened his eyes, meeting Max’s hooded gaze again, but was interrupted by a muffled sound right within the bathroom. He jerked his head to the side, and saw Liz’s hazy outline through the glass shower stall, just staring at them.

Michael stiffened, feeling exposed at the way he and Max were intimately entwined, suddenly aware of Max’s hands threaded so tightly around his neck. Max’s gaze wandered, too, and Michael felt him tense against his body. It was if they’d both instantly sobered from the intoxication of the moment, and now their only mutual awareness was of Liz staring at them both.

"Liz," Max croaked, dropping his arms and stepping apart from Michael.

She moved quietly toward the glass door that separated them, but remained silent, her features completely obscured by the steamed partition.

Michael swiped anxiously at the glass so he could see her more clearly, and his heart plummeted. He’d hurt her again—they both had, he realized, glimpsing her little green uniform. She’d worn it here for him, had meant to tease him further with it, and yet had only found the two of them embroiled in one another’s arms…excluding her. Michael knew that feeling all too well—being the one on the outside.

She stepped closer, placing her tiny palm against the glass right where his own rested, but he couldn’t really see her eyes. He needed to see her, needed to connect, more than this way their palms rested closely together, yet so separate.

"Liz," Max called again, shifting anxiously beside him, and Michael opened the door part way, meeting Liz’s gaze.

And saw hurt reflected in her lovely dark eyes, for the second time today.

"I came over as soon as I was off work," she explained softly. "Sorry if…I’m…well, you know, interrupting..."

"Liz!" Max cried, opening the door further. "Never. We want you here with us…we just got…"

"A little carried away," Michael explained gently, sweeping his wet hair back, as steam spilled out into the bathroom.

"Well, I’ll just go hang out until you’re done," she offered evenly, but Michael wasn’t fooled. He glimpsed pain in her dark eyes, and knew that somehow finding them like that, at least so early in their nascent relationship, had been hurtful. Kissing or something less intense would have felt entirely different, but he knew what she’d seen—the two of them wrapped tightly together, nearly making love right in the shower.

"No," Max insisted beside him. "Sweetheart, please just join us."

"Ms. Parker, report to duty," Michael joked softly. "Now."

A slow smile spread across Liz’s face, as she tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear nervously. Michael sighed softly in relief as she began unfastening her uniform. It fell suddenly at her feet, revealing a beautiful cream-colored bra and panty set, lined in delicate lace.

It was the first time Michael had taken a good look at her body, because it had been so dark the night before. And she was exquisite.

"Liz," Michael groaned. "If I’d known you had that on underneath your uniform all day, I’d have been in serious trouble."

"Now you know the secret behind…what did you call it? My little hip thing?" Liz laughed huskily as she slowly unfastened her bra, and then it fell open, exposing her breasts. She watched as Michael and Max each stared at her from the shower, saw how their expressions shifted, their eyes widening—and she giggled softly at the way they exchanged an appreciative glance.

Max licked his lips as he watched her ease the panties down her hips and his eyes widened even more, as his gaze dropped lower on her body. Michael extended his hand toward her wordlessly, and Liz saw him swallow hard.

She’d been shocked finding them there like that, they’d barely been more than one smooth line, wrapped so tightly together—and somehow it had brought back the initial hurt of finding them lost in one another’s arms last night.

She’d felt like she was losing Max all over again, only this time the emotion had mutated. She’d also felt like she was losing Michael, as well. Logically she knew it wasn’t true, but she was still so vulnerable—not fragile, like Michael mistakenly believed, but their unusual threesome was just so new to her.

Now as Michael extended his hand silently toward her, begging her with his eyes to join them, all those emotions faded, replaced instead by thrumming desire at the sight of their beautiful bodies and the way they shimmered so slickly.

The thought of actually watching just the two of them together, caused her to churn with desire, because every stolen glimpse she’d had of them had been absolutely sexy and lovely—despite how hurt she’d felt. She couldn’t imagine what it would do to her if they simply let her watch for a while.

"You know, Michael," Liz laughed. "I thought you said you needed a cold shower."

His eyes never left her, just kept glancing up and down her body, as he licked his lips in a mirror image of what Max had done earlier. "Well…guess the plan changed after that…motorcycle ride."

Liz raised an eyebrow, stepping closer. "I think I understand now," she teased, her eyes snapping to Max’s and he reddened. "Something about all that…power? Right between your legs?"

Michael nodded his head helplessly, and Liz saw him swallow hard. "Maxwell," Michael choked, still staring at her as she stepped just between their two bare bodies. "I think it’s Liz’s turn now."

"Absolutely."

"My turn?" She asked curiously, crinkling her nose as she stared up at Michael in confusion. Steam instantly covered her skin, as the warm water began lightly pelting her. "For what exactly?"

Max cupped her face, dragging her lips toward his with a soft smile. "You’re about to find out, my love," he promised huskily, closing the shower door with his free hand.