In an oz. of Hope, Max O'Hare is tortured with the aid of recollections of the lady he loved, the newborn he misplaced, and the medication that numbed his ache. Grace Brooks, an everlasting optimist, seems to be the excellent woman, but she continues the reality of her own elaborate heritage closely guarded.
Max is fresh out of rehab, so a relationship is the closing issue on his intellect. Yet he is drawn to Grace: he senses that she, too, is attempting to find break out. certain by way of their most excellent fears and deepest secrets and techniques, Max and beauty have to learn to have confidence once again.
And the key to opening their hearts lies in one one other . . .
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"i was wondering if you'd let me take some images of you." Max opened his mouth to protest with a big, fat "f*ck no," however Grace beat him to it. "they're now not pics or anything else," she assured him. "definitely, people may not even realize it's you. it can be parts of you."
Max's arms found his hips. "elements of me."
"Mmhm. Like your fingers." She lifted her hand however saved it from touching him. "Your chest." The apprehensive demeanor he'd viewed in the coffee shop again, her expression wary, guarded.
She'd not ever been that means with Max, and he wasn't about to let her start. without idea, he took a step ahead. Grace's hand splayed towards his chest, directly above his heart. Her palm burned hot through his tee. A small gasp escaped her at the equal time her huge eyes snapped to his, all emerald shine and exquisite.
"that you would be able to touch me," Max advised her gently. "don't be afraid. now not of me."
She swallowed but did not stream away. in its place, she opened her fingers wider and pressed her palm greater firmly against him. An expression of decision hardened her elements.
"All appropriate," she whispered. "i would additionally want pictures of your face."
She lifted her hand gradually, took his chin between her thumb and forefinger, and turned his head to the facet. "This half." She traced an invisible line from the nook of his eye to the fringe of his mouth with the tip of her finger. "nobody would understand it's you."
Max's respiratory was heavier; his pulse thundered. The feel of Grace's fingers on his jaw, the sensation of her skin in opposition t his changed into staggering. it would been too damned lengthy due to the fact that he'd skilled a woman's contact. He became hard and breathless, and they were each nonetheless entirely clothed.
F*ck.
"adequate," he croaked.
"adequate?" she requested, dropping her hand. "you are going to do it?"
appropriate then, he'd have accomplished anything else she damn well wanted if she'd easily touch him once more. "certain."
For the subsequent hour, Grace took images of Max's face, his eyes, his mouth, and his jaw, set towards the backdrop of the historical cottage, the timber, and the water. She showed him what she'd taken after each one, reassuring him that he became unidentifiable. Max had to admit, though with little surprise, that she changed into very talented.
Her eye for form and lightweight turned into impressive.
"i want you over there," she ordered, pointing to the overturned tree he sat on when they had a smash on their morning run.
He threw one leg over the facet, straddling it. Grace sat down next to him.
"I want to take photos of your palms." Her voice quieted when she touched the back of his wrist. "but, I . . . I need to display color variation." She put her hand on his. "Like this."
Max licked his lips as he looked at their fingers collectively, her dermis a gorgeous dark, warm caramel in opposition t his white and a bit of tanned. She lifted her camera together with her free hand and clicked twice.
She adjusted herself, relocating nearer, the scent of her fragrance, all sweet and floral, accosting Max. She tilted and clicked, moved her hand, moved his, however nevertheless she gave the impression unhappy. Max, however, turned into anything else however.
Grace huffed and sat returned, eliminating her fingers from his. "or not it's no longer working." She closed her eyes and tilted her head again. "I can't get the perspective appropriate."
Max's gaze wandered the size of her neck, across her pulse points, right down to the V of her good and the swell of her chest, to the correct of her thighs, the place her skirt had ridden up. Her legs have been f*cking perfection. She had runner's legs, slender and robust. He wondered fleetingly what they'd think like wrapped around his hips, his ribs, and his neck. He bet she tasted extraordinary.
R-Rated Excerpt:His fingers slid throughout her collarbone and down. His gaze flickered to hers the closer he got to her breasts, warning in their depths. "All right?"
"sure."
and she or he turned into. Oh, God, she became. She felt alive in his arms, and when he finally touched her nipples and cupped her in his fingers, she moaned a sound she didn't comprehend she changed into capable of. It changed into reduction, gratitude, and yearning for extra. He groaned, too, as he squeezed her gently, tweaking her nipples between his thumb and forefingers, moving closer.
His tongue poked out between his open lips. "you have such first-rate knockers." His thumb circled her. "best. seem to be how they healthy my arms." He watched, his gaze scorching and enraptured as her breasts moved and rippled below his ministrations. "F*ck, Grace, I desire — will you let me, am i able to suck them?"
His words were so unintentionally erotic, Grace might do nothing however nod.
He leaned nearer. "I've got you. you are protected," he murmured. "And so f*cking sexy."
after which his mouth was on her.
His burning tongue wound around her nipple, flicking, teasing, and sending electricity coursing through her veins. It become moist, sloppy, and made Grace call out and sag towards him. He hummed into her dermis, sucking more durable, grabbing tighter, respiration tougher.
Grace's physique twitched and grew wet, determined for friction, but petrified of having his body over hers, protecting her down. She pushed her hands into his hair, sighing at its thickness between her fingers, looking nothing greater than to bury her nose into it and breathe him in. She held him shut.
She became safe, she reminded herself. He wasn't going to hurt her.
"Feels so respectable," she murmured, realizing from the suffering between her legs that she could simply come from his mouth on her chest alone.
Max's reply was muffled but loud, and when Grace seemed, she saw that he was rubbing himself furiously via his sweats with the heel of his hand.
"Oh, God," she gasped, craving flashing via her. "Please let me see."
His mouth under no circumstances moved, but his eyes darkened impossibly further as they flickered up.
"could you come?" she requested. He nodded, his lips sliding against her. "display me."
He pulled down his waistband and underwear sooner than Grace may take an additional breath. the head of his c*ck slapped his belly, glistening and so very tough. No c*ck she'd ever viewed turned into fairly, but Grace would say that Max's changed into surprising. He became thick and lengthy, and when he twisted his fist over its bulbous tip, Max moaned and sucked her tougher. That was good to understand for when she touched him there.
and he or she would contact him there.
There was no question.
need curled in her belly, tighter and tighter as images of them doing extra, going extra, pummeled her intellect unless she too turned into pushing her hand into her pants and into her underclothes. She changed into drenched and burning. One swipe of the pad of her thumb in opposition t her cl*t and her again arched. Her head hit the headboard, and she or he cried out.
Max released her nipple with a loud smack of his lips, his eyes widening when he noticed what she turned into doing. "F*ck, are you touching yourself?"
She bit her lip and nodded — his phrases gasoline to an already livid inferno. "shut."
however her eyes had been closed, Grace knew Max's fist had accelerated. The mattress shook, and his grunts acquired louder, his breath hot and wild on her throat.
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