by Lara Lacombe
Well done, she thought sarcastically. With only a few words, she’d managed to throw a wet blanket over the chemistry smoldering between them.
Time to go. She glanced down, wondering how she was going to stand up with the dog practically sitting on her feet. He looked quite comfortable, but he was just going to have to move.
She planted one hand on the couch to push off the cushion. But before she could shift her weight, Max covered her hand with his own.
Molly looked over, surprised by the gesture.
He had leaned in when she wasn’t looking, closing some of the distance between them. His soft green eyes looked almost golden as they reflected the light from the fire. Molly felt hypnotized by his gaze, unable to move, unable to look away.
He lifted her hand, turning it over to fit in the cradle of his palm. Using the tip of his index finger, he began to softly trace the lines of her palm. His touch was featherlight, hardly more than a brush of skin against skin. But it sent electric currents of sensation shooting up her arm with every stroke.
“Do you know what I missed the most while I was on deployment?”
The question came out of left field, but his voice was so quiet it didn’t break the mood building between them. Molly swallowed, her mind growing hazy even as her body stood at attention.
“No,” she said softly. “What?”
“Touching someone. Being touched in return.” He looked down at her hand, continuing to trace imaginary patterns on her skin. “Not always in a sexual way, either. There’s just something about physical contact that soothes the soul, don’t you think?”
Molly nodded, falling completely under his spell. “It does.” She’d never tried to articulate it before, but Max’s words perfectly described her feelings.
“I’m glad I didn’t upset you last night,” he said gruffly. “I worried about it all day.”
“You did?” She was surprised by his admission. Max seemed so confident and sure of himself—not the type to fret about a small misstep. His concern warmed her just as much as the fire a few feet away.
He nodded. “But since I didn’t overstep my bounds, does that mean I can kiss you again?”
The question sent a thrill through her, kicking her heart rate up a notch. “I take it you want to kiss me?” Yes, she was teasing him. But the anticipation was so enjoyable, Molly wanted to make it last just a little bit longer...
“Oh, yes.” His eyes dipped to her mouth, then back up again. “If you don’t mind too much.” The corner of his mouth quirked up in a smile, letting her know he was in on the game, as well.
She leaned over, getting closer to him. “That might be nice,” she whispered. “I just need to check my calendar.”
Max angled his head, putting them only a breath apart. “Busy, are you?”
Molly smiled. “Mmm. But I think I can pencil you in.”
She closed the distance between them, fitting her mouth over his. Just as it had last night, the contact sent sparks of sensation shooting through her system.
Max wasted no time pulling her closer. Her curves pressed against the flat planes of his body, a delicious pressure that sharpened her need for more.
They explored each other’s mouths, tongues and lips communicating more than words ever could. Molly gave herself over to the sheer pleasure of the kiss, the voice of doubt that constantly whispered in her brain silenced for the time being.
After a moment, Max pulled back, though he didn’t go far. He pressed his forehead to hers, breathing hard. “That was...” He trailed off.
“Intense,” Molly finished.
“Yeah.” He huffed out a laugh, his hand gently stroking her cheek.
“Don’t stop on my account,” she said, only half-joking.
“Really?” He drew back farther, his eyes scanning her face as if searching for signs of uncertainty.
She smiled and nodded. “Really,” she assured him. As soon as she said the word, the rest of her doubts faded away. They might not have a future together, but she didn’t want to pass up the chance to fully explore the chemistry between them. At least once in her life, Molly wanted to know what real passion felt like.
Max returned her smile. “Stay right there,” he said. Then he rose from the sofa and walked into the bedroom, leaving her alone.
Well, not entirely alone. Furbert took notice of Max’s departure and hopped up onto the cushion next to her. He curled up at her side, placing his head in her lap, then looked up at her with a pitiful expression. It was a masterful performance; if Molly didn’t know better, she’d swear he was starved for affection.
“All right,” she said, stifling a laugh. She scratched behind his ears, and he sighed blissfully again.
She was glad Furbert was here. Petting him was a nice distraction while she awaited Max’s return. If she’d been left alone with her thoughts, her nerves might have gotten the better of her.
It didn’t take long for Max to come back into the living room. He had ditched the glasses, and the earbuds no longer dangled around his neck. His hair was slightly mussed, making her think he’d run his hand through it. “Oh, I see how it is,” he joked. “I’m gone for five minutes and you’ve already moved on to the next man.”
Molly shrugged. “I told you my calendar was full.”
He ran his hand down Furbert’s back. “Mind if I steal her away, boy?”
Furbert’s tail thumped against the cushion, but he didn’t move.
“Come on,” Max said affectionately. “Go lie down by the fire.”
The dog let out a dramatic sigh as he got to his feet and jumped down. Molly couldn’t help but laugh at his antics. “Does he always complain this much?”
“Pretty much,” Max said. “He’s like an old man.” He held out his hand. Molly took it, experiencing a second of déjà vu as he helped her to her feet.
“Would you like some wine?” he offered.
Molly shook her head. “Not right now.” She wanted to be clearheaded for what came next. That way, when she thought back to this encounter, she’d remember everything in detail.
He drew her into the bedroom, and she immediately saw why he’d left her on the couch.
The bedroom was large, with a king-size bed on the far wall. The entrance to the bathroom was on the left, and the wall of windows on the right ended in a corner fireplace with a small sitting area arranged to take advantage of the view.
Max had lit the fire, casting the room in a golden glow. The chairs and small table were pushed to the side, and Max had pulled the quilts off the bed and placed them in front of the fire. Pillows were arranged on the makeshift pallet, creating a cozy little nest.
“Is this okay?” He sounded a bit unsure as he studied her face. “I thought it might be nice to lie by the fire, but if you’d rather not be on the floor I can put everything back on the bed.”
“No, this is perfect,” Molly said. She’d never made love by a fire before. It was one of those romantic scenes she’d always wanted to experience but figured she never would. The men she’d been with in the past had been nice, but not especially interested in setting the mood. Max’s thoughtfulness made her feel special, as if she were the only woman in the world.
He pulled her close. “I’m glad you think so.” He pressed a soft kiss to her lips, then her nose. “This isn’t something I want to rush.” He kissed one cheek, then the other. “I plan on enjoying our time together.” His lips met her forehead. “I want you to, as well.” He placed his index finger under her chin and tipped her head back to expose her neck. His lips were hot against the sensitive skin along her jaw.
Molly shivered with pleasure. “I will,” she managed to choke out. Her body already ached for his, though he’d hardly touched her.
He slanted his lips over hers, cupping her face with his hands as he explored her mouth. Molly found the hem of his s
weatshirt. She tugged blindly at it, seeking access to his skin.
Max jumped when she touched him. “Sorry,” he muttered with a laugh. “I’m a little ticklish.”
His admission delighted her. A Green Beret who was afraid of spiders and ticklish to boot? It was an unlikely combination.
“That’s going to make things...interesting.” How was she going to touch him without torturing him?
“It’s just along my sides,” he said, running his fingers down her ribs. His nimble fingers unbuttoned her blouse. Molly shrugged out of it, letting it drop to the floor.
Max traced the line of her collarbone. “I’m not ticklish here,” he murmured. His hand drifted down the swell of her breasts. “Or here.” He ran the knuckle of his forefinger across the curve of her stomach. “Or here.”
Molly swallowed, trying to bring some moisture back into her dry mouth. “That’s good to know.” She practically panted out the words. “But I can’t just take your word for it. I’m going to need to test that out for myself.”
Max nodded, his expression serious. “Trust but verify. I get it.” He winked at her, then took a half step back and pulled his sweatshirt over his head.
Molly sighed with appreciation as she surveyed his body. The firelight cast flickering shadows on his upper torso, a terrain her fingers itched to explore.
She stepped closer, placing her palms flat on his chest. He was warm and solid against her hands, the red-gold smattering of hair surprisingly soft.
He remained still while she ran her fingers over him, indulging her curiosity as she wandered the planes of his torso. She felt the thump of his heart against his breastbone, noticed the change in rhythm when she dipped her head forward and flicked one nipple with the tip of her tongue.
Max sucked in his breath with a hiss as she moved her hands down, following the vertical line of hair that bisected his stomach to disappear behind the waistband of his pants. She reached for the button of his jeans, but stopped when he grabbed her hands.
“It’s my turn,” he rasped, lifting her hands and placing them on his shoulders.
Molly nodded. “Fair enough.”
He traced the edges of her bra with his fingertip, then dipped his head and navigated the same path with his tongue. His breath was hot on her skin, a second caress that made her knees wobble.
He reached for the front clasp of her bra, fumbling a bit as he tried to unhook it. Molly reached down, intending to help him. But he shook his head. “I’ve got it,” he said, gently lifting her hands to his shoulders once more.
A second later, her bra loosened, releasing her breasts into his hands. Max hummed appreciatively as he rubbed the pads of his thumbs over her nipples. Molly’s knees turned to jelly, forcing her to tighten her grip on his shoulders so she didn’t fall to the ground.
Max kissed her, slowly lowering her to the floor as he did. Molly was all too happy to follow his lead—her brain was overwhelmed by the fog of arousal, making thought difficult.
The comforter was a soft cushion under her back, though he could have stretched her out on a bed of nails and she wouldn’t have noticed. The fire chased the chill from the room, but it was nothing compared to the heat of Max’s body on top of hers. He was like a living furnace, warming her from the inside out with his touch.
She shifted, reaching for the button on his pants once more. He pushed himself up, meeting her eyes. “Are you certain?”
Molly nodded, afraid to speak lest she shout, “God, yes!”
Max rolled to the side and shucked his pants. Molly followed suit by lifting her hips to shove her trousers and panties down her legs. When they were both free, they rolled to face each other again.
Molly skimmed her hand across his chest and down his stomach, until she reached her goal. She traced the length of him, enjoying the tension in his muscles as he sucked in a breath.
“Two can play that game,” he murmured wickedly. His fingers started at her knee and stroked up the inside of her thigh. Then his hand cupped her center, where the sensitive tissues responded to the smallest of movements.
Max played her body like a musical instrument. Their connection was unlike anything Molly had experienced before. He seemed to know exactly where to touch her, how to stroke and nip and lick and kiss. There were times she felt he must be reading her mind—how else could she explain the intensity of this experience?
She let go of any pretense of control, surrendering to her body’s responses. For the first time in her life, Molly silenced the voice of self-consciousness in her head and got out of the way of her own pleasure. She didn’t think about what she looked like, or worry that she was too curvy or too plain or too anything for Max. She simply jettisoned the self-doubt and let herself feel.
From somewhere in the distance, she heard the crinkle of a wrapper. “Oh, good,” she murmured. “You have protection.”
“I do,” he confirmed. “It’s taken care of.”
He kissed her again. Molly reached for him, pulling him on top of her. She drew her legs up, letting her knees fall apart. Max entered her carefully, giving her time to adjust as he pushed forward. She bit her lip, moaning softly. It felt incredible to be connected to him, for their bodies to be joined completely in this primal way.
Her release came quickly, waves of pleasure washing over her with an intensity that made her see stars. Max found his completion soon after, his muscles flexing under her hands. He relaxed, slowly settling his weight on top of her. Molly idly ran her hand up and down his back, enjoying the feel of being surrounded by him.
She wasn’t sure how long they lay there like that—her brain was pleasantly empty of all thoughts, a slate wiped clean. At some point, Max rolled onto his back. Without saying a word, he gathered her close. Molly snuggled up next to him, resting her head on his shoulder. She threw her arm across his chest, feeling the thump of his heart as the rhythm returned to normal.
Max’s hand traced imaginary patterns on her upper arm, a lazy caress that lulled Molly into a stupor. “That was amazing,” he said softly, his voice a low rumble that she felt as much as heard.
“Yeah,” she murmured. There was more she wanted to say, but her brain was still flying high from pleasure, which made it difficult to think. She stared at the fire, transfixed by the dance of the dying flames.
Max grabbed the edge of the comforter and pulled the thick material across their legs to ward off the cold. “Can you stay the night?” he asked.
His question made her heart want to sing. “Yes,” she said.
“Good.” He gave her a squeeze, then relaxed again. “We can get into bed eventually. I just don’t think I can move now.”
Molly chuckled. Once again, they were on the same page. “This is nice,” she said on a sigh. “I’m in no rush.”
The fire crackled a few feet away, the occasional spark popping in a bright flare that reminded her of a shooting star. Max’s breath was even and regular in her ear, his skin warm against her cheek. Sleep reached for her with welcoming arms, and she surrendered to its embrace with a sigh.
Chapter 6
Present day
Max knew the instant Molly woke, even though he couldn’t see her face. She stiffened in his arms, and a slight hitch interrupted her deep, regular breathing.
She didn’t speak, but he could practically feel her confusion as she lifted her head off his chest, peering into the dark gondola carriage as she no doubt tried to get her bearings.
“It’s okay,” he said softly. “We’re still in the gondola.”
She shivered, pushing up and out of his arms. He let her go, his body instantly registering the cold as she left his embrace.
“How long have we been here?”
“Almost six hours,” he said. “The team said they’re getting close. Shouldn’t be too much longer now.” Hopefully that was the truth. He knew the rescuers we
re working hard to reach them. But there were a lot of factors outside their control, limiting the speed with which they could operate. Fortunately, the gondola carriage seemed to be stable, if cold. As long as things stayed that way, they could wait a while longer.
Molly rubbed her eyes. “How long was I out?”
“Almost two hours.”
“Oh, man.” She sighed, shook her head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep. And certainly not on you.”
“No need to apologize.” He didn’t tell her it had been the best two hours he’d spent in a long time.
Holding Molly had kept him from going out of his mind with boredom. Despite the swell of her belly, she’d fit against him perfectly. As soon as she’d nodded off, he’d gathered her into his arms, their bodies coming together in a pose they’d adopted a hundred times before. How many times had they slept like this, wrapped in each other’s arms?
Molly was the only woman he’d really held before. Beth hadn’t liked to be touched while she slept, so every night they’d retreated to separate sides of the bed, leaving a gulf of space between them. Max had figured he wouldn’t be able to sleep any other way, but from the very start he’d always felt more contented with Molly in his arms. Just the weight of her against him brought him peace.
He’d been amazed to find that was still the case. Her earlier burst of anger at his lack of communication had made her seem like a bit of a stranger, and pregnancy had changed her body in ways he didn’t recognize. He’d spent most of the time trying to wrap his brain around the fact that as he held her, their baby was cradled between them.
But in spite of all those changes, one thing remained constant: Molly still smelled the same. He’d taken one whiff of her hair and the months of separation had melted away, making him feel as though he’d seen her only yesterday.
Things were different between them, that much was sure. But holding Molly had made him think everything might turn out all right after all.
Provided they got out of here in one piece.