“Baby –” he whispered, unamused.
“Sweetheart, don’t go down that path. I’ve been down it and, trust me, it leads nowhere.”
His eyes moved over my face then his fingers slid into my hair and he pressed my face into the side of his neck.
“Sorry, Duchess, you don’t need this shit, the demons you been battlin’ today,” he muttered, my arms slid around him and I kissed his neck.
Then I said, “You know, earlier today I wondered if it would have hurt less if I hadn’t been alone when Charlie died.”
His fingers slid through my hair and he asked, “Yeah?”
“I decided it wouldn’t have.”
“Probably not.”
“But, maybe, if I hadn’t been alone I wouldn’t have wandered down that path.”
“Probably not,” he repeated.
“So, since you’re not alone, will you let me guide you away from that path?”
He was silent a moment then he asked an impossible question, “Where we goin’, honey?”
“I don’t know, just not there.”
His body shook with silent humor, not a lot of it but it still shook.
“That shield you got, babe, like titanium,” he muttered and my arms gave him a squeeze.
“I thought we were going to enjoy being alive, breathing and alone?” I reminded him.
“Yeah.”
“We’re not really doing that.”
“Nope.”
“Let’s move onto that phase of the evening,” I suggested.
His fingers curled around my shoulder and gave me a squeeze.
“Good idea,” he murmured.
“Do you want a beer?”
“No.”
“I can make some hot chocolate,” I offered.
“Thanks, but, no.”
“Do you want anything?”
“Anything?”
My stomach dipped and my body grew tense.
“Max –”
“There’s somethin’ I been wantin’ a while.”
“Max –”
“Take my mind off things.”
My head came up and I repeated, “Max.”
His fingers slid into my hair again and his eyes focused on my mouth. “Be a good way to celebrate breathin’, bein’ alive and bein’ alone.”
“I –”
“Kiss me, Duchess.”
My hand went to his chest as his hand pressed my face closer to his.
“You’re being domineering again,” I informed him.
I felt his mouth grin under mine and watched his eyes do it.
“Yeah, baby, fair warnin’, when we’re naked, you better get used to that.”
I gasped at his words then he kissed me.
It could have been the snow falling softly all around the A-frame, the fire burning in its grate, the soft lighting under the cupboards in the kitchen and just the lamp by the couch lit making the house more cozy and romantic than ever.
It could have been what happened that day to Mindy, Brody, Max and me and relief that we were all here, still able to walk, talk, breathe, kiss.
It could have been Max’s long fingers in my hair, his hard, warm body so close to mine, his mouth tasting vaguely of coffee and cake and strongly of Max.
It could have been that this was Max and, today, he proved he was more Wonder Max than ever.
Or it could have been he was just a very good kisser.
But I melted into him and his kiss, tipping my head to the side, lifting my hands to his neck and sliding my fingers into his thick hair, touching my tongue to his.
He growled in my mouth and at the feel of it, the sound of it, my body responded to just how much I liked that noise coming from Max and the fact that it was me who made him make it, I pressed into him.
His hand went from my waist, up my shirt and I felt the rough pads of his fingers against the skin of my back.
My body liked that too.
I pressed closer.
Max twisted his torso to me, pushing me back into the chair, his hand coming to my front, running over my ribs, my midriff then up to cup my breast.
“Yes,” I whispered against his lips when his warm hand closed over my soft flesh.
Then I kissed him, our tongues tangling, his thumb stroking my nipple, one of my hands went from his hair to tug up his shirt and it slid in, gliding along his hot skin and solid muscle.
His finger found his thumb and together they squeezed then rolled.
I felt this dance through my body, most specifically straight between my legs, and it felt so good, I liked it so much, I lost it.
I pushed him back and followed him, moving up over him to straddle his hips as my hands went to his shirt, lifting it up. Max helped, his hands went from me to the back of his neck where he tugged the shirt over his head, down his arms and he tossed it away.
It was my time, my chance, his magnificent chest was right there in front of me and I wanted to explore.
So I bent, my lips going to his neck, my hands going to his body, both explored, fingers, lips, tongue, teeth. I slid down, bowed my back to get to him, taste his skin, drift the tips of my fingers across the ridges of his belly, run the edges of my teeth against his nipple, the sound of him sucking in breath forcing a surge of wetness to strike between my legs.
His fingers curled into my shirt and up it went, forcing my torso up, my arms then it too was tossed away and Max’s hands came to my back, pressing in, forcing me to arch forward, pushing me up and his lips fastened on my nipple over my bra.
“Max,” I breathed as the sensation of his mouth closing on me rocked through my body, my hands sliding into his hair and his tongue flicked out.
Even over my bra this felt better than his fingers, way better. He had a very strong tongue.
“More,” I demanded on a whisper, my hips instinctively rolling against his hard crotch and his mouth went away but his hand pulled my bra down, his fingers curling around my breast and there it was, Max’s mouth direct on me.
Divine.
I tipped my head down to watch and there was something so amazing about Max’s dark head close to my skin, his tanned hand holding my breast to his talented mouth, I couldn’t hold it back and I heard my moan as it escaped my lips.
His head tilted back, his face more beautiful suffused with want, especially his want of me, and he muttered, “Jesus, honey.”
“More,” I whispered again and suddenly we were up, Max’s hands at my bottom, my legs went around his hips, my arms went around his shoulders and he was striding to the stairs.
I couldn’t stop, didn’t have near enough of him, maybe I could never get enough. But I was going to try.
I bent my head and put my mouth to his neck, tasting it with my tongue, tugging his earlobe with my teeth.
Before I knew it we were by the bed, Max bent at the hips and the light went on.
“Drop your legs, Duchess,” he ordered and I did what I was told.
I no sooner got my feet on the floor then the drawstring was pulled on my pajama bottoms and they pooled at my ankles and then I was up again, only to be partially placed, partially tossed on the bed.
I watched Max follow me down but he didn’t land on top of me, his hands slid up my inner thighs, spreading my legs and then his mouth was on me, over my panties.
I heard the low, rough noise escape my throat as his mouth moved on me then he muttered, “Fuckin’ soaked,” before his fingers shoved the material of my panties aside and his mouth was on me.
I bucked against his mouth and moaned, “Max.”
It was debatable whether his finger or his tongue was more gifted until his finger slid inside and his mouth covered my sweet spot and sucked deep. My whole body jolted at the sheer beauty of it and I knew a combination of the two was the best.
“Oh my God,” I breathed because it was coming and it was going to be beyond anything I’d ever experienced.