ONE
I’m not sure how to explain how weird it was the next morning to be cruising through Los Angeles in Max’s convertible Porche 911. It was strange because I felt so free and elated, but in the back of my mind there was still the chill of fear from the incident with Chris.
What had started off as a terrifying evening had turned into a night of mind-blowing sex with Max, and there I was the next morning being whisked off to the California wine country.
He didn’t tell me where we were going, at first. He just drove to the small Bob Hope Airport outside of Burbank, where many Hollywood stars kept private planes.
I was in awe when he told me the plane belonged to him. I halfway expected him to tell me he had chartered a flight for us or something. I’m not sure why. Max was loaded. He was a Hollywood bigshot. So why shouldn’t he have his own airplane?
“But I don’t fly it,” he said.
“Oh, well then I’m not as impressed.”
He caught my sarcasm and smiled. “Just get on the plane. My plane.”
And that’s what I did, gleefully bounding up the steps as Max followed me, patting me on the ass once.
When we got off the ground, we had a great view of the California coast. Being from the Midwest, I had never had much experience with beaches. I’d found the California coast, what little I’d seen of it, to be breathtaking. The aerial view was even more gorgeous.
Max had arranged for breakfast to be on the flight, and about thirty minutes into the trip, we were drinking orange juice and coffee, and sharing a truly sinfully large plate of French toast with berries and cream and syrup.
“Are you trying to make me fat so no one else will want me?”
Max eyed me up and down. “One plate of French toast isn’t going to make you fat.”
I threw my napkin at him. “Jerk. You know that wasn’t the point of the question.”
He swallowed the last of his bite of breakfast with a smile on his face, took a sip of OJ and said, “I don’t care if someone else wants you. They’re not going to take you away from me.”
“Welcome to Napa,” Max said as we landed.
Having heard of the place throughout my life, but having never been there, it existed only as a fantasy in my mind. Sort of the same way I felt about Max. But he was real. So was Napa. And we were here for what promised to be an amazing weekend.
Max had a car waiting for us at the airport—nothing fancy or flashy, just a good old fun Jeep, which Max drove like he’d just stolen the thing.
We zipped along roads that snaked through the wine vineyards. Max was like a tour guide, telling me all kinds of details about the various wineries we cruised past.
We finally ended up at a cottage on the side of a hill. It was private, nestled in a patch of trees. I got out of the car and looked around, breathing in the crisp, fresh air.
“Come on,” Max was saying as I gazed out at the countryside, taking in the view. “There’s plenty of time for sight-seeing. What I want now is you, inside.”
“Why, Mr. Dalton,” I said, affecting a fake patrician accent, “whatever do you have in mind?”
I was trying to be playful. We’d had our fun with banter and teasing during the trip up here. I expected him to continue with the light-heartedness. But he didn’t.
“What I have in mind, beautiful Olivia, is you…naked, on the bed, so I can have my way with you.”
He stepped toward me and before I knew it, his mouth was on mine. My lips parted, letting his tongue slide in.
Max lifted me up and I wrapped my legs around his waist, locking my ankles behind his back. He walked us over to the couch. Something about this man and couches…
He set me down gently, and I felt his erection pressing between my legs.
“Let’s get these off of you.” He unbuttoned my slacks, unzipped them, and started working them down my hips and my legs. When he kissed me again, he made a moaning sound deep in his chest, almost a growl, mixed with his warm breath against my lips.
Max ran his hands up the insides of my legs, and slipped a finger under the elastic of my panties. We held eye contact as I arched into his touch and felt his finger make contact with my clit.
“Already getting wet,” he said.
“You have that effect on me.”
He kissed me again, hard, passionately, taking my tongue into his mouth and sucking on it. His finger stayed right on my clit, working perfect little circles around in the slickness. Then he used his thumb to rub my clit, and I felt him slip a finger inside me, then a second one.
Our foreheads were touching and I looked deep into his eyes as he teased me so completely. Max licked at my lips, then said, “I’m going to get you to the point where you beg me to fuck you.”
“I’m already there,” I said, without hesitation.
He shook his head slightly. “No, not yet. I’ll be the judge.”
Max resumed kissing me as his fingers explored inside, finding the spot that made me squirm. He knew he had me. He kept rubbing right there as I writhed beneath him.
Fuck. This guy knew how to make me come so good, so easily. Usually, anyway….
He stopped and raised up, kneeling on the couch. He pulled his shirt over his head. I loved watching the way his muscles moved beneath his skin.
He stood, unbuckled his belt, unzipped his pants, and was quickly standing there totally naked. Each time I saw him I was more in awe of his beautiful body. And this seemed like he was enjoying the way I looked at him, as he just stood there—totally exposed to me, his hard cock raging with lust.
“Sit up,” he said.
The commanding tone in his voice sent a tingle through my body. Never before had I been with a man who could have spoken to me like that without igniting a little resentment in me, or even eliciting some laughter. But with Max…well, he was different in countless ways.
He stepped toward me and, wordlessly, guided his cock toward my mouth. I opened and felt the head slip just past my lips.
“Suck me there.”
Again, the blunt commanding nature of his words urged me to please him.
The head of his cock was nestled between my pursed lips. I sucked gently, then moved my tongue in a circular motion around it. A droplet of precome was my reward.
“You look so beautiful doing that. Take it all now.”
Max put his hand on the side of my head—his palm on my cheek, his fingers pointing downward and curling under my chin. He held my head in place as he moved back forth, slowly, fucking my mouth.
I felt his cock grow harder and bigger as it slid in and out of my mouth.