“Good,” I whispered, he grinned, let me go and went back to his nachos.
“How tired are you?” he asked after swallowing another loaded chip.
“I woke up tired but it’s okay, it’s nothing fifteen days of sleep won’t cure.”
Max chuckled then, still grinning, suggested, “Another movie night.”
I really liked that idea so I agreed, “Sounds good.”
“I get to pick the movie this time.”
“Okay,” I said, twisting to get my beer.
“Babe?” he called as I twisted back.
“Yes?”
“Still scared?”
I saw his eyes were dancing and I knew he knew the answer to his question.
“A little,” I kind of fibbed. I was but also I wasn’t.
Max scooped up his last chip, muttering, “Another week, you’ll be good.”
“Arrogant,” I muttered back then took a sip of my beer.
When I dropped my hand, I looked at Max to see him chewing but doing it while smiling.
* * * * *
“Jesus, Duchess, you movin’ in there?” Max’s impatient voice sounded through the closed bathroom door and I stared at my black-eyed reflection in the mirror, trying not to hyperventilate.
I’d had an idea after nachos and during dinner clean up and now, putting it into action, I was thinking it wasn’t such a good idea.
“Nina!” Max called.
“I’ll be right out!” I called back and took in a deep breath.
So I was getting less and less scared about a lot of things Max and me.
Which meant, to have a healthy relationship (or, healthier), I needed to be able to do this kind of thing.
I let out the breath, squared my shoulders, went to the back of the door, put on my robe, tied it tight at my waist and pulled open the door.
Max was lying on his back on the bed, shoulders to the headboard, a new beer in one hand, his other hand behind his head, the pillows bunched up behind his back, my beer on his nightstand.
I stopped a foot outside the bathroom door, his eyes travelled the length of me and came back to my face.
I was in my robe with bare feet and legs, he was still fully dressed, therefore, he asked, “You gonna watch a movie or you goin’ to sleep?”
I moved to my right, stepped back and leaned against the wall.
Okay, maybe I couldn’t do this.
Max studied me then turned to his side, taking his hand from behind his head to hold his torso up on an elbow and he called, “Honey, come here.”
My feet moved me automatically toward the bed but they did this slowly. Max watched the whole time and I stopped by the side of the bed, stood stock-still and stared down at him. He leaned to put his beer on the nightstand, moved back and looked up at me.
“Jesus, Duchess, what happened in the bathroom?”
I pulled in a deep breath then before all courage fled, I yanked at the belt of my robe, shrugged it off my shoulders so it pooled around my feet on the floor and stood in front of him wearing nothing but a pair of Brazilian cut, white lace panties and my gold-sequined camisole.
Max’s eyes moved to my body.
Then his body moved and before I could blink I was flying through the air. I landed on my back in the bed and Max rolled over me.
Holding his torso away, he ran his hand down my side, the calluses on his fingers snagging at the sequins, his eyes glued to my body. Then his head came up, he looked at me and his beautiful eyes were unmistakably hungry.
“Baby,” his voice was thick, “you got this on, you better not be tired.”
My hand came up to curl around his neck under his ear, my fingers sliding into his amazing hair.
Then I whispered, “I think I got my second wind.”
His hand was at the edge of the camisole and it dipped under then slid up my skin and Max’s eyes held mine as I shivered at his touch.
I put pressure at his neck as my other arm pushed under his body to curl around his waist and I demanded softly, “Kiss me, Max.”
Max, unlike me, didn’t have to be told twice.
* * * * *
After, we watched the movie, me pulling on my nightie, undies and robe, Max yanking on a pair of pajama bottoms.
I lay cradled against his body, my head pillowed by his hard bicep, his forearm curled across my chest and his other arm draped around my waist as I watched a lot of things blow up, a lot of gunfire and a lot of car chases.
Then, I lost my second wind (this could be due to the three orgasms I’d had, yes three, Max really liked the camisole and took his time, expending a lot of effort, proving that) and felt my body start to settle further into Max and closer to sleep.
“Am I losin’ you, baby?” Max whispered into my ear from behind and I nodded, so he offered, “I’ll turn off the movie.”
“No, sweetheart, you finish it, I can sleep through it.”
Then I turned to face him, my back to the TV, and cuddled closer, pressing my cheek to his chest, twining my legs with his and my arm around his waist.
Max’s arm tightened around me, his other hand sifting through my hair.
This felt good and dreamland beckoned.
“Nina, honey?” Max called.
“Mm?”
“You happy?”
I turned my face and kissed his pectoral then I turned it back and pressed my cheek into his chest.
Something exploded on the TV but Max muttered, “I’ll take that as a yes.”
“Mm,” I agreed.
I felt Max move slightly then I felt his lips at the hair on top of my head, he kissed me there then he moved back.
“’Night darlin’.”
I was close to the edge, sleep’s silken web weaving around me, therefore I didn’t guard my words or even think about them when I mumbled, “’Night Max” I gave a small sigh and snuggled closer before whispering, “Love you.”
Then I fell instantly into such a deep sleep, I didn’t feel Max’s powerful arms convulse around me.
Chapter Fourteen
Manning Up
“Tell me,” Max growled against my lips as his hands at my h*ps ground me down on his cock.
“Darling,” I whispered, not knowing what he wanted me to tell him but willing to tell him whatever he wanted to hear because I was so very, very close.
“Tell me, baby,” he ordered, still growling, letting me move up then using his hands to slam me back down.
It was morning, Max woke with his hands then his mouth and now I was riding him but he was sitting up, my hands were in his hair, my head tipped down, my lips on his and nothing was in my head but the beauty of the sensations gathering between my legs.