“You’re stayin’.”
“You can’t keep me here.”
“I can.”
“That’s –”
“And you wanna stay.”
I shook my head in disbelief and cried, “You’re infuriating!”
“And you love every fuckin’ second.”
My mouth made a “poof” noise at such a display of arrogance and I pushed against his chest. His hand slid up my spine, bringing me closer, pinning my hands between us as I watched his neck bend.
I had a feeling I knew where this was going.
“Max,” I warned, my body bracing.
“Quiet,” he ordered softly. “Got a point to make, honey.”
“Max!” I snapped.
“Let’s see how good this could be,” he muttered, his eyes on my mouth and I knew, I just knew, he was going to kiss me.
“Max, don’t you –”
But his fingers had sifted into my hair against my scalp cupping my head, holding me steady and his mouth came down on mine, cutting off my words.
And considering my mouth was open, he didn’t miss the opportunity to slide his tongue inside.
My body froze when his tongue touched mine.
Then my hands curled into his shirt and my body melted.
His tongue felt good, it tasted good, it was all just good. Not just good. It was better than good. I missed this, I loved kissing and, Lord, did I miss it.
My eyes drifted closed, my head tilted and that was it, I was lost.
And then Max really kissed me and I became so lost, I never wanted to be found.
It wasn’t good.
It was astounding. He was just as amazing a kisser as he looked amazing, maybe more, and that was saying something.
My toes curled in my boots, my hands glided up his chest to wrap my arms around his neck, my body pressed the length of his and my stomach did a somersault before it plummeted in a delicious way. I felt a tingle between my legs that was more than delicious, it was luscious and, given all of that, I had no choice but to open myself up to him.
And I did.
When I did, Max took and he took and he took. And I gave and I didn’t care if he drained me dry, in fact, I wanted him to.
His mouth broke from mine, his head came up, my fingers which were in his hair put on pressure and he whispered, his gravelly voice actually hoarse, “Jesus, honey.”
“More,” I breathed, not even opening my eyes and his mouth came back to mine, he gave me what I wanted and I loved every bleeding second.
Somewhere in the back of my head, I realized he was moving, taking me with him, shuffling us what I understood was toward the couch and I was happy to be going there, couldn’t wait to get there, couldn’t wait to explore Max more and let him explore me, when the phone rang.
On the second ring, Max’s head came up and he stopped our movement.
“Don’t.” It sounded like a plea and it was coming from my mouth
“I’ve gotta, Duchess.” His voice was still rough and he sounded like he didn’t want to but when his arm left my waist and his palm touched my cheek, I opened my eyes and saw in his face that I was right, he didn’t want to but he had to. “Don’t lose that look,” he ordered, bent forward, kissed my forehead then let me go and with long strides, walked to the phone on top of the roll top.
I watched him go and listened to him answer with a, “Yeah?”
I shook my head trying to clear it but I could still feel his arms around me; his lips on mine; his tongue in my mouth; his soft, thick hair under my hands; his hard body against mine and I wanted it back. I couldn’t shake off that feeling of want even though I tried. It was like it was born in me, natural, everything I was or everything I was meant to be and there was no way to get rid of it.
“Now?” Max asked, sounding incredulous and a bit annoyed but also sounding like he was trying to hide both. “Okay, yeah, calm down. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.” I stared at him as his eyes sliced to me, his face wasn’t soft with desire like it had been five seconds ago, it was tight and impatient. “Yeah, I said I’d take care of this, I’ll take care of it.” Another pause and he didn’t unlock his eyes from mine before he said softly, “Don’t worry, I’ll be there. Fifteen.”
Then he hit the button for off, it beeped and I felt my body twitch at the sound. Sanity was returning but Max was right in front of me, impeding its progress.
“I gotta go.”
I just nodded.
“I don’t know when I’ll be back.”
I nodded again.
“Duchess, you with me?”
“Yes,” I whispered.
“I’m takin’ your car keys with me,” he announced.
“Okay,” I replied instantly.
His hands came to either side of my head and he tipped it back as he got closer. I saw his face was back to soft and he looked almost relieved.
“I made my point, didn’t I?”
Oh, he made his point.
“Yes,” I whispered again.
“We’ll finish when I get home.”
I didn’t answer. I didn’t know what he meant, finish talking or finish making our way to the couch so I could act like an even bigger idiot and behave like a screaming bitch besides.
“Nina?”
“It sounds like something important.”
“It is or there’s no fuckin’ way I’d go.” His hands at my head brought me closer and he finished, “I’ll explain later.”
“You better get going,” I told him.
I felt one of his hands come down to my neck then his thumb slid along my jaw.
“Be good,” he whispered.
“I’ll try,” I whispered back, his eyes moved over my face then he bent his neck, touched his mouth to mine, giving me an exquisite, sweet, light kiss that was much like his forehead kiss except a whole lot better and let me go.
I watched him go to the closet, he disappeared behind the door, came out, shrugging on a canvas coat, his eyes came to me and he ordered, “Stay awake.”
“Okay.”
He lifted his chin and then he walked out the door.
I wandered to the computer even though I wanted to watch him leave, I didn’t want him to see me watching.
I pulled the chair up to the roll top then I sat down and clicked into the internet browser in order to access my webmail.
I heard the Cherokee depart as I typed in the web address then my username and password. I heard silence when I clicked on “compose” and more silence as I typed in Niles’s e-mail address.
Then I spent the next two hours writing to my fiancé explaining, in detail, what a timeout meant; what it meant that he didn’t know how I took my coffee; what it meant that he didn’t understand how much it hurt when he asked me to sell Charlie’s house; how lonely I was, even when I was with him; how it felt, him not making love to me, being affectionate, making me feel desired or desirable; how much it bothered me that, even though I’d talked to him about all of this, even wrote him other e-mails, it didn’t ever seem to penetrate; and lastly, the part that took the most time, how it wasn’t going to work out between us. Then I told him I’d call him in a few days and we would talk. Then I read it, edited it, read it again, added more, read it again, changed a few things, then I hit send.
It disappeared and I stared at the screen showing a list of my e-mails.
Well done, sweetheart, Charlie whispered in my ear.
He sounded sad but proud.
I started crying.
Chapter Five
Charlie
I opened my eyes, blinked at the bright sunlight and smelled bacon cooking.
I was alone in Max’s bed. Max, evidently, was downstairs cooking breakfast.