“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 h*ps 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.