How, a week ago, I had a boring, predictable life where nothing happened and now everything was a complete and utter mess, I had no idea. I wasn’t rethinking my decision about Niles but I was rethinking my Colorado adventure and any future adventures I might be stupid, insane and irrational enough to consider taking.
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.