“My friend’s grandmother…her place…she died…” she murmured. “She was a bit crazy, I guess…”
“Yes,” he said, unbuckling her seatbelt with one hand and swiping his credit card to pay their fare with the other, “and you're a bit tipsy. I do need to get you home…”
Tipsy. He thought she was drunk! Oh, yes, but intoxicated by him—not that awful champagne! That was somewhat a relief for Maxine. Now she just had to make it to the door, and bid him goodnight, but she couldn’t help to wonder if he’d leave her with another kiss…
Getting out of the car, however, rushed her back to the present moment. Somehow, she had to crawl her way through the open door, as Drew waited on the sidewalk in the pouring rain without an umbrella. In a bit of a panic, she scooted along the leather seat, then instinctively reached for his hands, already stretching out to help her.
She had nowhere else to look but upward and into his now nearly navy blue eyes, full of dismay and concern at the same time.
Maxine wanted Drew to leave, but simultaneously, she wanted him to stick around for just a while longer. Such a quandary into which he’d throttled her that evening, and she had to find her answer—quickly.
Arm slipping around her back, he steadied her while she clomped toward the stoop and up the steps, sloshing through the puddles and splashing them both. Drew minded her every move, and even grabbed her elbow rather hastily when she fumbled yet again on the slick, steep steps.
Once she stood on somewhat solid grounding, Maxine placed her hands on her hips. He was two steps away, yet their eyes met and locked. “Thank you, Drew…” she whispered. “Thank you for getting me home…”
“Maxine,” his breath, with his lips so near, tickled over her face, “you’re not inside yet…and it’s fucking pouring.”
“Oh…” her plump lips rounded in surprise.
“Yes, ‘oh.’” Gently turning her around to face the door, he said, “March, little one…”
Ah, little one. She could get used to that. However, she had to erase that moniker from her little mind. And wiggle her silly sopping way through the front door.
“Keys…” Drew put out his open hand.
Keys! She thanked her lucky stars that her bag was so tiny and that she could pull them out readily. Plunking the chain into his hand, she smiled triumphantly. “Here you go…Sir…”
Raising his brow in utter amusement, he touched his finger to the tip of her nose. “I like that—Sir—remember that…”
Folding her lips together to prevent herself from laughing, she held her breath. Those hiccups, she hoped, wouldn’t return soon. With a salute, she said, “Yes, Sir…”
“Don't mock me, Maxine…” he said as he wiggled the key into the lock, then moved aside to allow her to step inside the foyer. Ben still hadn't replaced the light bulb that blew the night before, and Drew cursed softly when he flicked the switch. “Is your roommate here?”
Clothing dripping on the weathered marble flooring, her gaze widened as she wondered where he planned to take this night.
“Sleeping, likely,” she whispered, nodding toward the living room. “Can I get you something to drink?” The words fell from her lips before she’d even checked if they had anything to serve beyond bottled water and beer.
“No,” he said, scratching his chin. “I’m fine, but thank you…”
Her hands were wet, but she had to turn on a light. Reaching for the scarf on the coat stand, she dried off a little.
Fingers fumbling with an aging Tiffany table lamp, she tried desperately to avoid Drew's eyes that seemed to follow her every move. He appeared to be in no rush, but Maxine suddenly wasn't sure that she wanted him to stay.
Perhaps he'd sensed her reservations, and Drew closed the distance between them in two even strides. Carefully, he slid his hands just inside the lapels of his jacket and rested them on her shoulders. Jaw slackening, she pulled in a ragged breath and looked up at him with those wide emerald eyes.
“Thank you…” she whispered “…for loaning this to—”
However, Maxine didn't have a chance to finish her sentence as his lips found hers once again, eliciting a low moan from deep within her throat. With his tongue slithering between her teeth then tickling the roof of her mouth with its tip, Drew's kiss worked her sinuously. Before Maxine realized what was happening, his hands circled her waist to ease her down to the couch behind them.
As her hands endeavored to claw their way into his hair once more, he caught them and held them in his grip, still kissing her all the while. Eyes popping open in surprise, Maxine caught him staring back at her. In his gaze, she discovered his lust—raw and determined and ready to conquer her.
His lips never left hers as his hands moved hastily to remove his jacket from her shoulders. “Off with this…” Hands skimming down over her arms, he felt the warmth of her pale skin, reactionary to even his slightest touch. Once he’d settled her sufficiently beneath him, he dared to press a little closer, feeling her tiny body writhe beneath him as their dampened clothes clung together.
“Ohhh…” her voice reverberated against him as he nudged her with his hips, his hardness pressing not so gently against her tummy.
“Shhh…” he said, cupping his hand over her mouth. “We don’t want to wake the roommate, do we?”
Shaking her head, she could only concentrate on that sensual buck of his hips, poking and prodding her so steadily against her dress that had ridden rather far up her thighs.
“We’re a little overdressed here, don’t you think, Maxine?” he questioned her, but his hand remained over her mouth. “Not to mention—drenched.”
With her feet kicking just a little, she lost a shoe. Damn spikes. That’s what led them to that point in the first place—on the couch, pawing and panting—with Maxine tripping over her stupid shoe. Now he planned to strip her. Maybe there was a bit of infatuation on his end as well, she reasoned. He wanted her. That fact was evident. And he wanted a little more than kisses in the rain. They were now in her home—in her living room—steaming up the old windows on a rickety sofa with its cushion springs biting into her butt as a portrait of Ben's Grandmother minded them—maybe even scolded them—from atop the mantle.
However, Maxine made herself giggle. Who the hell took the time to think and rationalize foreplay while Adonis hovered above her, telling her exactly what he wanted? Ben was right. She always overthought everything.
The rain continued to patter outside, pelting against the panes. Maxine could feel those deft fingers reaching around and tugging at the zipper of her dress, the tips dipping just inside the eyelet fabric to tickle her neck. He was so good, knowing just the slightest trace could bring her unwitting gratification. He'd also likely had a lot of practice. However, Maxine didn't want to think about his other women for now. She wanted to enjoy this simply for what it was. Drew McKenzie. On her couch. Making out with her…
So acutely aware of her body’s reaction, she felt the tightness of her bra that strapped in the sudden fullness of her breasts…and the tickle of her panties against her bottom as she moved with him.
“Kisses…” she called out to him, begging for more, but he took her wrists in his hands once again as she attempted to pull him closer.
“No more kisses right now…” he said, hooking his leg around her to hold her in place.
“Oh, please…” her little voice beseeched him.
Again, he ignored her and continued on with one hand in his effort to unfasten her dress. While he left her upper body covered, he reached behind her to pop her bra clasp with a mere snap of his fingers before turning his attention to her thighs, which she rubbed together in her frustration. He gave her a gentle pat to still her, but found himself sitting back from the force of his shock when she called out his name…then pushed him away.
“Maxine…? Are you…”
“Drew…I…hic…” No! Not the hiccups again—not now of all times in her life! What was with this man that he brought fo
rth such a reaction in her? That truly must have been what Dickens meant when he referred to the simultaneous surge of the best of times and the worst of times.
Maxine knew that her face had likely drained of all color. Luckily, that old Tiffany lamp didn’t emit much light. Although she wanted to make a run for the nearest closet and lock herself inside, Drew still held her in a body lock.
“Here…ease up,” he murmured, his voice and his eyes now full of concern. “Sit for me…”
She needed to talk to him—to fess up and tell him the truth about her silly little life—but she could barely speak through her impediment. “Drew, I…hic…I…”
In his attempt to soothe, he rubbed her back, unaware that he was only heightening her existing woes. “It’s alright, little one,” he assured her. “Breathe in and out…”
“But…I…hic…” Her chest heaved, furthering her embarrassment over the fact that he’d unhooked her bra and that her breasts were jumping wildly against her dress.
“Maxine…breathe for me…” So sweet and tender then, he held her face in his hands and looked into her eyes with absolute concern.
“Drew…with this…it’s…hic…”
“Shhh…”
“Drew…hic…before you…hic…before we…hic…” Oh, go away, hiccups—and Drew McKenzie!
“Maxine, we’re not doing anything until you’ve stabilized here…”
Stabilized. From the hiccups! Oh, Drew had such a way with words. So clinical!
“Drew, listen to me!” she finally choked out and wrapped her small hands around his forearms—the sinew beneath her fingers bringing both her yearnings and reservations to the forefront once more. Yes, she could admit, he scared her just a bit, but in the most enticing manner.
“Please…hic…listen…” she asked. “Impor…tant…”
“OK, little one,” he acquiesced at last.
“Drew…I…hic…” Damn, damn, damn! Oh, she’d never sworn so much—even internally—in her entire life as she did that evening. “I’m a…still…vir…hic…gin…”
Chapter Five
Hands drifting away from her, he still held them high in the air, almost as if in surrender. Brow furrowed, Drew slunk back against the couch, his eyes glazed with shock, perplexity and…horror?
“You…um…” Now it was he who stuttered. “You’re a…”
Turning away in shame, she reached for the nearest lumpy brocade throw pillow and shielded her face. “Vir…hic…gin…”
“Oh, fuck…” he groaned and pushed himself up from the couch. “Maxine…”
While she couldn’t see him and refused to turn to take a single peek, she could hear him moving about, his feet shuffling around on the hardwood floors. She thought she could even hear water running in the far off distance, but she sat so very still, right there with that pillow, for what seemed like minutes until he returned.
The couch sunk a bit further as he took a seat at her side, and he carefully lifted that silly pillow away. That didn't mean she had to open her eyes and face him, however.
“Look at me,” he whispered, his voice now imploring her.
Brimming with skepticism, she opened her eyes slowly, only to see the glass of water in his hand. “Hic…you…”
“Drink this, little one…please?” He placed the glass in her hand but maintained his grip until he was certain she wouldn't drop it and spill the water all over both of them. They'd already been soaked twice that night.
Dutifully, she brought the heavy crystal tumbler to her trembling lips, watching him closely as she drank. Taking one slow gulp after another, she didn’t want to have to explain. However, the patience with which he waited touched her. For once that evening, he wasn’t barking commands or making demands. He wanted to hear what she had to say, but on her own terms—and after they eliminated that little problem she suffered a second time in a matter of hours.
“You haven’t run away…hic…oh!” she twisted her face sourly. “You haven’t run away from me yet.”
“And why would I?” he countered.
“You’re not happy with me…” she guessed.
“No, actually, I’m glad that you told me now,” he insisted. “Look, Maxine, in case you haven’t noticed, there’s a little bit of chemistry between us here…”
“A little,” she agreed, her lips curling into a girlish smile around her glass.
“But honestly…you’ve never…?” he prompted her.
“Huh-hic-uh…” At least those damn hiccups were slowing down a bit now. Perfect timing, as always, Kirk!
“Stop,” he commanded again. “Breathe…and take another drink, please.”
She could only nod as she obeyed. Stop. Drink. Breathe. The tasks were simple, but for Maxine, hours seemed to pass as she struggled with her own body yet again. However, Drew didn’t speak again until he was certain that she could manage a conversation without a convulsing interruption.
“Maxine, you’re beautiful, smart…and I think there’s a sense of humor buried under all of those jitters tonight,” his calm voice continued on. “You never met anyone that…well…not even for a one-night stand?”
I was a chubby little nerd in college, and my sense of maturity often served as a complete turn-off to most men my age, she answered him in her thoughts. Instead, she simply chose to ask, “Does dry-humping with one of the only straight guys in my college theatre department on a crappy dorm room mattress count?”
She’d just used the phrase “dry-humping” in front of her teenage crush, and Maxine didn’t bat an eyelash. Score one for Team Kirk, she mused.
“No, my silly little one,” he said, and tucked her hair behind her ears, “it does not. But let’s thank him for not taking it further…”
Suspicious, she pulled back ever so slightly. “Really?”
“Well,” he shrugged. “I'm glad some little college fuck didn't ruin your entire first sexual experience…”
As she inhaled a long and steady breath, relief flooded Maxine. At last, for the moment, the hiccups had receded. “I guess…my question is…will this revelation be a problem for you?” she asked, dropping her head and fearing his answer.
“Oh, fuck no!” he answered her, almost too quickly, and turned her shoulders so that she’d look at him. All the while, though, her bashfulness beguiled him, and he wished she’d taken notice. “I love a project—a challenge.”
“A project?” she stood up and stomped the one foot on which she still wore a shoe, then kicked it fiercely, scuttling it across the room. Sometimes, her inner-only child surfaced. “That’s what it is to you?”
“Alright, my bad—my very bad,” he apologized and arose from the couch to circle her with his arms. She was far too uncomfortable, and he wanted to eliminate that awkward air between them. “I want to teach you…”
Now intrigued, she allowed herself to move a little closer. “Teach me…” she repeated, pondering his suggestion. “Hmmm…”
“Yes, Maxine, your willing tutor,” he said. “But…I fear…”
“Yes…?” she whispered and held her breath in wait for his answer.
“My only concern here is myself…” he admitted, then bent down and picked up his jacket from the floor, folding it to perfection before catching her glare. “What’s with that face?”
“We’re having a conversation about my virginity, and you’re folding laundry?” she accused, forlorn.
“Oh, you don’t like that?” Just as easily as he’d folded the jacket, he returned it to the floor. “You can pick it up and fold it now, Maxine…”
“Me?”
“You heard me,” he said with a snap of his fingers. “Lesson number one—on your knees, little one.”
“Already?” she screeched, hoping that didn’t awaken Ben. That’s all she needed! “But we haven’t even…”
“Not for that…oh, for crissakes, Maxine!”
Stepping away, he turned his back to her as he leveled with his exasperation. Meanwhile, Maxine sc
offed in wait for his next command. Drew made absolutely no sense to her. One minute, he was kissing and cuddling her, and a half hour later, he was calling out orders like some drill sergeant and ordering her to kneel before him!
“I can’t win this evening,” he muttered.
“Neither can I…” she retorted quietly.
Spinning on his heels, he caught the seething look in her eye, the puckered pout of her lip and the arms folded right across her unbridled bosom. The sight of her only spearheaded his arousal into overdrive, but he had to remain in check. And he had some explaining to do.
“We need to talk about a few things…”
Dropping down to the arm of the couch, the wooden frame squeaking as she plunked down in retreat, she said, “Please enlighten me…”
“I am totally behaving like an asshole here—with you—this evening, and I apologize,” he began. “Profusely.”
“That’s a start…” she said.
“And I panicked a little here,” he continued. “But please understand, this isn’t my norm as far as…well…as far as…sex is concerned. Admittedly, I haven’t been with a virgin since I was one myself.”
His revelation didn’t surprise Maxine in the least. “Look, Drew…” she shook her head. “I’m sorry if I led you on. I had no intention of doing so. And there’s the door if you want to—”
Placing his finger delicately over her lips, he said, “I’m not leaving you tonight. In fact, after what I have to tell you, I hope you won’t leave me…”
Confounded by his words, she murmured against his touch, feeling that little ache rising once again. “Huh?”
“There’s something about you, Maxine,” he said. “Something sweet…something pure…but something complex that I haven’t yet figured out. And I like you.”
She felt the same of him and wanted to know so much more about his life, but she couldn't splice together any logical thoughts to convey her wonderings. Instead, she reacted with anxious honesty. “I'm…a little…I don't know what to make of all of this.”
WEAKENED: The Manhattan Bound Series Book One Page 7