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“Well… what rooms do you have?” Maxx asked, glancing between the boys and the packed lobby, her heart beating loud enough she swore everyone could hear. This was not how she wanted the night to start—stress, confusion, and now the possibility of sharing a room with the one guy who already made her blush just by breathing.
The receptionist gave her a sympathetic look. “We do have a two-bedroom suite. It has a living room too. One of our bigger room types—usually for families. The couch is even a pull-out.”
“Yeah, that works,” Max said quickly. She could feel her face heating as she imagined Ryan’s grin tomorrow. “At least for tonight. Any chance of other rooms opening up tomorrow?”
“Maybe. It’s a busy week.”
Max exhaled and turned to the guys. “Okay. Let’s just get up there and figure it out.”
The boys followed her toward the elevators, exchanging looks behind her back. Of course they were enjoying this. Every step Max took, she prayed none of their coworkers were lurking around to witness her mortification. Thankfully, the hallway on their floor was empty.
The suite door opened, and Max stopped in place.
It was… nice.
Like, she’d-rent-this-as-a-starter-apartment nice.
A real living room, a full kitchen with an island, bar seating, modern lighting—cute, warm, perfect. The kind of place that made her want to curl up, pour wine, and pretend she lived a completely different life for a moment.
“So,” Ryan said casually, “which room am I taking?”
Max blinked out of her little fantasy.
“Oh, I thought you’d take the one with Max in it,” Mark teased immediately. Max hoped he was joking—she couldn’t read him because her embarrassment was suffocating her.
Ryan opened his mouth to reply, but Mark cut him off.
“You know what? Let’s do it. It is your company trip,” he said with a wink. “And I can sleep in. Max won’t have to worry about waking me up.”
Before Max could even get air into her lungs to object, the guys were grabbing their bags, rearranging, deciding for her like it was the easiest thing in the world.
Her chest fluttered with nerves and something else she didn’t want to name.
She stepped into the bedroom she was now apparently sharing with Ryan—and froze again.
Mark’s things weren’t there.
Instead: Ryan’s.
Younger clothes.
Sharper cuts.
Those fitted shirts he wore that hugged his shoulders just right.
The underwear—God, even that was more stylish than Mark ever packed.
It made her feel like she’d gone back in time to the first trips she and Mark took, when the unknown was thrilling. When every new detail of someone felt intimate. And now she was standing in that same feeling again… but with Ryan.
She was still staring when she heard his voice behind her.
“Didn’t think seeing me would be that scary,” he teased gently.
Her stomach flipped.
“No, not you. Just… getting used to you being here and Mark being there,” she said, motioning toward the other room.
Ryan nodded, stepping past her toward the closet—way closer than she expected. “We could switch if you want.”
“No,” she said softly, giving him a sideways grin she didn’t fully mean to. “This is what you two wanted.”
He smirked as he closed the distance between them, reaching past her to grab clothes from the closet. The warmth of his body behind her, close enough she could feel his breath against her shoulder, sent a wave of heat through her stomach.
She turned to joke—and lost her words entirely.
Ryan was already down to his underwear.
Not sheepish.
Not shy.
Just… comfortable. Like his body didn’t even occur to him as something she might react to.
Maxx swallowed. “Well… that’s one way to get comfortable. But I don’t think that’s resort-approved attire.”
“What?” Ryan pressed a hand to his stomach dramatically. “You think guests would complain about the fat guy in his underwear?”
“Fat?” She stepped closer without meaning to. “Not at all. But maybe someone would complain about the guy trying to smuggle a whole piece of local fruit in his boxers.”
Her hand slid to his stomach before she even realized she’d moved. His skin was warm, firm, addictive to touch.
Ryan chuckled. “Fruit? Please. It’s more like a stolen baby carrot.”
“Oh shut up.”
Max hooked her fingers under his waistband and tugged—slow enough to watch his expression change, quick enough to shock him. His cock sprang free, definitely not resembling any kind of small vegetable.
She didn’t give herself time to think.
She dropped to her knees.
She took him into her mouth in one smooth motion, tasting him, feeling him swell even more against her tongue. She wanted to overwhelm him, ruin him for the entire trip, give him a memory he’d think about every time he looked at her.
Ryan braced against the wardrobe, jaw clenched, breath shaking.
“Jesus… Maxx…” he groaned, his hand gripping the edge of the wood like he might fall.
She worked him with her mouth and hand, deliberately loud, deliberately messy, wanting him to feel every second of it. When she pulled her top down to free her breasts and squeezed them for him while still taking him deep, his legs nearly buckled.
He wasn’t going to last—not after the flight, not with how she was going at him.
When he came, it hit hard—his whole body tensing, breath gone, head tipping back against the wardrobe as he emptied into her mouth. Max swallowed him, using her fingers to clean the last bit from her lips before standing.
She turned to kiss him—
And froze.
In the doorway…
Mark.
His hand was wrapped around himself, his eyes locked on them. His breath came in heavy, desperate pulls as he came on the floor right in front of them.
Max looked between the two of them—Ryan still half dazed, Mark panting in the doorway.
A slow, wicked smile spread across her face.
“Well,” she said. “Looks like this is going to be one hell of a week.”
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