Therefore on Monday afternoon, after the rental car person left, somehow, some way, I was heading to Denver and then I was changing my ticket and going straight home.
I could take no more of this.
I put the phone on the nightstand and looked up at Max. “They’re sending someone Monday.”
“Right,” he replied, standing weirdly close to me so I had to tip my head back really far to look at him then he asked, “How long’s it take you to get ready for somethin’ like The Rooster?”
It was a weird question to which I didn’t have enough information to provide a response. Furthermore, we had other things to talk about.
Still, for some reason instead of bringing up the other things we needed to talk about, I twisted on the bed, looked at Max’s bedside clock, seeing it was a four thirty. Then I looked back to him.
“When do we have to leave?”
“From here, in an hour.”
“It takes an hour to get there?”
“Yeah, how long’s it take you to get ready?”
“I don’t know. How fancy is this place?”
“For Colorado, fancy.”
Hmm.
“Guesstimate?” I told him. “Half an hour, forty-five minutes.”
His eyes went over my head to the clock then he muttered, “Not long, but it’s somethin’.”
Then he leaned down, put his hands under my armpits and suddenly I was lifted, Max’s knee was in the bed, I was hauled further onto it and then I was on my back, Max on me.
Drat. Just where I didn’t want to be.
Though with his heavy weight pressing me into the bed, I couldn’t help but think it felt like exactly where I wanted to be.
“Max –”
“Quiet, Duchess, we don’t got time to talk.”
“Max –” I said again as his lips hit mine.
“Quiet,” he repeated and then he kissed me.
I pressed against his shoulders and bucked my hips, both hopefully since he was big, heavy and, apparently, determined. My hopes were dashed, he stayed put and his tongue touched my lips. As much as I liked the feel, which was a lot, I twisted my head to the side. Undeterred, his tongue touched my neck.
That felt nice.
“Max.”
“What?”
“There’s something I need to say.”
“Yeah?”
I opened my mouth to say it but his tongue slid up my neck then traced the outside of my ear as his hand slid down my side then ducked under my sweater.
“Max,” I breathed since his tongue at my ear felt nicer than touching my neck, but I breathed it somewhat loudly.
“What, baby?” he murmured in my ear in his gravelly voice, my body shivered against my will, his hand slid up my belly then curled, warm and strong, around my breast.
Oh my God.
That felt beyond nice.
“Max –” I breathed again, a lot quieter this time, I was losing concentration since most of it was focusing on his hand and tongue.
“You keep sayin’ my name, Duchess, I’m right here.” Max was still talking in my ear but then his teeth nipped my earlobe as his thumb slid over my nipple.
Oh… my… God.
Of their own accord, my hands moved. One glided down his back, one went into his hair.
“Nina?” he called as his thumb slid back.
“Mm?” was all I could say as I felt my nipple go tight and I felt it in two very good places.
His head came up, his thumb did another swipe and my h*ps bucked involuntarily under him, this time not to push him off.
“You gonna let me kiss you now?” he asked, sounding amused.
“Unh-hunh,” I answered, unable to form words because his thumb was now rolling circles around my nipple and that was indescribably nice.
“Good,” he muttered and kissed me.
And he kissed me for a long time. While he did it his fingers yanked down my bra and his thumb went back to my nipple, joined by a finger, the rolling sharper, sweeter, infinitely so. It felt more than nice, it was bloody brilliant.
My fingers were in his hair, keeping his mouth to mine. I was kissing him back as my hand pulled his t-shirt from his jeans and explored, taking its time, memorizing with my fingertips the feel of him, silky but solid, just like Max, sweet and strong.
I got lost in his fantastic kiss, in the feel of his skin, his muscle, in the throb between my legs, I didn’t notice his hand leave my breast until his h*ps shifted to my side and his fingers ran over the zip of my jeans.
“Max?” I whispered against his lips as his hand cupped me between my legs, his fingers pressing in and my h*ps lifted into his hand as I breathed, “God.”
“I wanna touch you, honey,” Max said against my neck, his deep voice gruff.
“Okay,” I said back instantly, unsure what he meant seeing as he was pretty much touching me all over already but I was happy for him to do more of it however that came about.
Max didn’t explain and he also didn’t delay.
He unbuttoned the button on my jeans and slid down my zip then his hand slipped inside. He not only didn’t delay, he didn’t mess with my panties. He went right in, fingers against wet, sensitive flesh and the minute he touched me every nerve in my body zapped to life.
“Christ, I like that,” Max’s voice grated against my skin as his fingers explored.
I couldn’t be certain at that moment, since I wasn’t thinking all that clearly, but I suspected I liked it a whole lot more.
His mouth came back to mine as his fingers stopped exploring and found the prize. The instant he put on pressure, I moaned into his mouth and my h*ps bucked against his hand, telling him he’d honed in perfectly and hit the target with delightful precision.
“You like that?” he asked against my mouth.
“Yes,” I breathed against his as his finger put on more pressure and started circling then I breathed again, “Yes.”
It was building fast. He was good, his finger strong, firm, working miracles and it had been a long time, too long, ages.
My hand left his back and slid around his hip to his front, glancing over his crotch, finding him hard and liking that so much I felt a rush of wetness between my legs in response.
He pulled his h*ps away with a jerk and his hand slid out of my jeans.
“No,” I whispered, my eyes flying open when I lost the beauty of his touch.
His fingers circled my wrist and pulled it over my head where his other hand captured it. Then he held it there as his body settled back into me, imprisoning my other arm as it was around his back, my elbow cocked, my hand still in his hair.