Chapter Sixteen
Now that we had a place to go and our stride showed intention, suddenly everyone and their mother—anyone who had any type of connection with Max—seemed to have showed up downtown to celebrate Christmas. The butcher, the baker, the candlestick maker; we couldn’t go fifteen feet without having to stop and greet someone.
By the fifth introduction, my head was swirling, and any attempt of keeping who was who and how he knew them was completely jumbled. I just gave up and smiled wordlessly at everyone after that. The butterflies urgently fluttering at the bottom of my stomach at the ice rink began to disappear into memories of what could have been. Aspen’s evening snowflakes danced icily against my exposed skin and clung to the strands of my hair until they dissolved against my scalp.
It wasn’t until he grabbed my hand and we jogged across the snowplowed street lined with Christmas-lit trees and snow-covered cars, that I felt the cloud of butterfly wings begin to beat low in my stomach again.
“Watch your step,” he said as he hopped onto the curb. He turned and stopped next to his car. His jet black hair became peppered with snowflakes and I watched them attempt to hang on for dear life as they melted away to drops of water trailing his face and down across his lips. His eyes narrowed, trying to avoid the heavy snow working to cling to his eyelashes, before they climbed from my lips to my eyes and back. Suddenly, his pouty lips pulled into a sexy crescent smile and that was it. Everything that had me excited earlier came flooding back.
Max pulled his gloves off his hands and shoved them into his jacket pocket before he stepped closer and pushed his hair back off his face. He lowered his head toward me and brushed a damp hand across my cheek. His fingers tangled gently in my hair as his lips tickled the corner of my mouth. Yeah, he remembers why we’re here.
I brought my hands up around his neck as he pushed me against the side of his car. His body pressed urgently and my cheeks ran cold as he dropped his hands to my hips. He tasted so much better than any hot cocoa or peppermint candy cane, and ignited a spark in me that made me want to take him and possess him. I felt his hands drop to my thighs and lift me up off the ground. Instinctively, I hitched my legs around him and felt how much he wanted me.
As he lowered me and pulled away, steam radiated from my mouth, evaporating as I caught my breath. He smiled wickedly before he swung the passenger door open. My heart pounded hard and fast as he made sure I was in and buckled. He scurried around to the driver’s side. The freezing air swirled around my neck and through my hair as he got in. It didn’t matter that no words were exchanged between us; I could hear his every thought. I watched his eyes mirror the want that twisted deep in my own groin as he looked at me.
Finally, he started the car and I welcomed the powerful vibration it created in my core. I loved the way the muscles in his jaw tightened and his hair curved just right around the back of his ear. I couldn’t help but study the remnants of spent snowflakes as they melted down to the tips of his glossy black hair. God, I ached to kiss the space where his hair lay fixed against his neck.
He swallowed and I watched the muscles in his neck dance before he caught me staring at him.
“Are we still going to my house?” A smile crept across his face.
“Well, it’s still my birthday, right?” I teased.
“According to the clock it is,” he said as his hand crossed the chasm between us and found the right spot on my upper thigh. His touch ran hot through my jeans, causing me to feel an excitement immediately thunder through every sacred space of my body. I tried to say something sexy enough to draw him in but lost my words when his hand began to creep inward. My heart thrashed faster, and the familiarity of him touching me invaded every inch of my body. I willed myself to relax, letting the sensation of his fingers brush against the seam of my pants with just enough pressure to keep me wanting more.
When Max pulled his hand away and the warmth receded, I shuddered. God, he knew how to tease me. I pushed my thighs together, trying to keep the feelings from disappearing. He let out a slight laugh before he hummed the remaining air from his lungs and ran his hand across the steering wheel.
I rested my elbow on the edge of his seat before brushing my fingers into the back of his cool, black hair. He rocked his head back and forth just enough to tell me he liked it. Goose bumps rushed his neck as I pressed my palm against the space where his hair met his skin. I could tell we were both vibrating on the same wavelength; it was like we were trying to press each other to the edge of nirvana without tumbling in.
As the car sped and swerved through the mountains of Colorado, I noticed the radio playing a key role in building the synergy between us. Max leaned his elbow on the console between our seats, his hand hanging in the air, inviting me to curl my fingers between his—I did. He collected my hand, holding it tightly enough to pull it up against his lips. The edges of my knuckles fit perfectly between his kiss and the bottom of his nose. I felt the warmth of his breath swirl and tickle across my fingers before he dropped our hands back between us.
I felt my scalp ripple and chase the excitement through my arms and down my legs. Even a month later, his touch still created energy that pulsated heavily throughout my body. Okay, maybe the fact that Faster—a Matt Nathanson song—came on the radio had something to do with it too.
“Ooooh, I love this song,” I said, reaching over and turning it up. Max smiled as he listened to the words hover and fill the car.
“I’ve never heard this before. I kinda like it,” Max said with a grin.
“Kinda?” I asked as I tickled the tips of my fingers down his wrist and across his arm. “It’s only like one of the most super sexiest make-out songs ever,” I teased.
“Ever?”
“Yeah, ever.”
“Well, if that’s the case…” Max turned up the song and pulled over on the side of the road. I felt his determination as the car skidded to a stop. The space outside the car, pinched by huge pine trees, seemed to crowd out the sprinkling of stars blanketing the sky; a perfect moment—alone.
Max turned off the engine. “Did he just say bite my lip?”
I nodded yes as I pushed over to him and traced my fingers across his lips, pressing to keep them from moving. I felt the mood of the song tease every space of my body and I wanted to at least get to first base before the song was over. His lips were soft, waiting for me to taste them. I wanted to kiss him forever, but the damn center console between us made it pretty hard to make out.
He kissed me back, biting my bottom lip. He tasted like freshly melted snow on a warm spring day. His hands slid around my hip and ran hot against my back pockets. I felt his fingers slip behind the waist of my jeans into the small of my back, and my skin rushed with chills that collected between my legs.
His balmy growl tickled across my hair before his lips gently caressed the bottom of my ear. Chills pulsated in waves up through my head and across my neck as I felt his scorching mouth close in on and nibble my earlobe. God, he had the key to my soul and he knew just how to turn me on.
I leaned my elbow on the center console and struggled to adjust my body closer to his. Leaning my hip over, I tried to swing my leg across his, but it got caught between his knee and the steering wheel. He pulled my shoulder over toward him and I felt the muscles across my stomach twist and pull. God, I just wanted to press up against him. I wanted to feel the heat through his shirt against my chest.
“Ow, ow, ow,” I whined as I rammed my forehead into his mouth. He leaned forward as I twisted to sit on him, but my leg was still stuck between him and the car’s steering wheel.
“Shit, my lip,” he spat.
“My leg is stuck. Oh shit, ouch, damn...” I leaned back into my seat to free my leg.
Max pressed his fingers to his lip and looked at them for traces of blood. I didn’t realize I’d hit him that hard.
“Here, let me see,” I said as he turned to me and I pulled down his bottom lip. His teeth must have pinched the insi
de of his mouth but he wasn’t bleeding.
“Am I gonna need stitches?” he teased.
“Oh, it’s pretty bad; I think I’m going to have to tend to your mouth pretty much all night. I’m going to have to keep waking you up. You could possibly have a concussion,” I stated before I tapped the tip of his nose with my finger. “But no stitches.”
“Just so long as it still works,” he said before he smiled and leaned over to kiss me. I felt him flinch slightly as he pressed his lips against mine. But it didn’t take long for the pain to vanish and his deep passionate kisses to return.
“Yeah, it still works,” I said as I pulled away and leaned back into my seat. “So how about you take me somewhere a little more comfortable?” I growled in a whisper as I rubbed my hand across the inside of my knee to stop the throbbing.
“You make my heart beat faster,” sang Matt Nathanson in a breathy moan, further encouraging the rush of adrenalin Max already created throughout my body. Suddenly, neither of us seemed to notice any pain. Max twisted the keys, shoved the car into drive, and sped away from the dark, tree-filled side of the road. He turned down the driveway and sped through the gate, hurrying to get back to the cabin.
“Hey, it looks like we might be alone,” Max grinned before his eyebrow spiked and he pointed out the empty spot in the enormous snow-cleared blacktop driveway where Camille’s Escalade had been parked earlier.
“Wouldn’t that just be our luck? I wonder if someone had planned it this way?” I teased as he pressed the remote to open the garage.
“Well, we’re about to find out.” Max pulled into the garage and pressed the button, closing us in.
He checked his lip in the rear-view mirror before he turned toward me; then a smile crept across his face. He pushed out of the car and sped around to open my door.
“Let me help you out,” Max said as he held his hand out to me. His sexiness seized me. God he is beyond scrumptious. His hair was just wet enough to invite my fingers; his lips plump, teasing me to taste them; and his lush green eyes drilled deep, waiting for me to come clean. I didn’t even know what I was supposed to confess to. The surge he created swirled low in my groin as he pulled me out of the car. As much as I liked his family, I prayed they weren’t home.
Chapter Seventeen
Max called out to Nancy and Camille while I took off my boots, just like I always did. Distracted by a lone pink sticky note pressed to the stainless steel and glass refrigerator, Max hurried through the kitchen to read what it said.
“They all went to the Vaughns’. How lucky is that?” He pulled the note off the fridge and held it up, stuck to his finger. “Looks like it’s just you and me,” he continued in a sexy voice as he pulled me through the kitchen and into the great room.
I noticed that our bags were still at the bottom of the stairs, still waiting for us to carry them up, but Max’s body language told me he didn’t want to worry about them right then. He had an empty house and a girlfriend who’d saved herself until this moment to go all the way with him.
“Wait, I need my suitcase,” I said pulling back on him. Max stopped and swung his other hand, catching mine as he turned back to me.
“Really—right now—this minute?” Max whined.
I nodded.
Max snatched up his duffle bag and my suitcase and lugged them upstairs; I followed behind, clinging to his back pockets. Not even climbing Half Dome in Yosemite could be this exciting. Okay, so I have to admit I’ve never been to Yosemite, but climbing the stairs to my boyfriend’s room on my eighteenth birthday was a hell of a lot more stimulating than climbing a massive rock boulder.
I could feel the muscles in Max’s backside flex as he took each step, and the view of him in his fitted Levi’s was plenty for me.
“You okay back there?” he asked.
“Yep,” I puffed.
“What did you pack in this suitcase? It weighs more than my car.” He glanced back at me.
“Well, we are going to be here for a week. I wanted to make sure I was prepared for everything.” I adjusted my hands against the insides of his pockets.
“Everything, huh?”
“Yeah, everything,” I teased.
When we reached the top of the stairs he set my suitcase down and dropped his duffle bag. At last we were on the same level. Comfort drenched his expression and relief swarmed emphatically between us. He bent close, pressing his body against mine, his hands hot from working, his lips damp from waiting. He kissed me, soaking me in his want, before he dragged his hand down my arm and pulled me to his room. We were finally there. Our bodies spun around, and he pushed me against his closed door. He was just far enough away to ignite a craving so intense, I shivered. He stared into my eyes, looking at me so passionately I could see his heartbeat quicken in his neck. I swallowed hard. I guess this is it. This is the last time we will look at each other with the virtue of not knowing how I feel to him and him to me.
“Wilson, are you ready?” he breathed across my neck before his lips tickled at my earlobe and he pressed his entire body against mine. He caused my butterflies to flock south. I wanted him so badly, I could explode and it would be less painful. It ached deep in my core.
But how was I to know all the emotions I was supposed to feel? My body, my heart, my soul wanted him completely. It was my mind I had to convince. And quite frankly, it was harder than I thought.
I shook my head yes, and felt his intention shift quickly. I knew this was going to be it. My legs went weak and I swayed sideways. His body followed me like a slow dance.
Words couldn’t fill the thick moment of anticipation between us, so we didn’t attempt to talk. He reached across me and twisted the door knob. When I turned to walk in, my heart somersaulted in my chest.
A canvas banner, with a burst of confetti colors wishing me a happy birthday, spanned his huge picture window. On his desk, a stunning kaleidoscope of tulips and snapdragons erupted from a clear, square glass vase, and a bright yellow envelope leaned purposefully in view. I stood for a speck of a moment, taking in all the love that filled his room. It was beautiful, and it was for me.
A smile streamed across Max’s face as he looked around, surprised as I was.
“Did you plan this?” I asked as he came up behind me and lowered his chin to my shoulder.
“Well, would it make it any more amazing if I did?” he whispered.
I nodded. It was pretty incredible and overwhelming, like the many times before when he did things that woke up my butterflies. I fought to push them back down into my gut. But that never lasted long; the butterflies would always sneak back up, causing my throat to go dry and my eyes to burn. Max seemed to know exactly what to do to touch me deeply.
“Honestly, the flowers were my idea. The banner and card—that must be from my mom.” He dragged his fingers across my hair, exposing my neck, before he pressed his warm lips right below my ear. “My idea was the helicopter—remember?” He continued kissing my neck, then I turned and our lips met. He tasted better than ever before. Maybe it was because I was finally eighteen. Or maybe it was the idea that I wanted to be a part of what he had to offer.
Max kicked the door shut, his hands strong across my back. Suddenly, we…were…on. No more waiting, no more wondering what it was going to feel like to have each other—completely. A replay of the events leading up to this moment hung between us. A thousand horses tugged and carted our desires at the speed of light, while our emotions galloped in plain sight. He pulled my shirt up over my head, and his eyes fixed on my body as he tugged his own shirt off. He tickled his fingers down my shoulders, across my arms, and to the front of my black lace bra. I knew it was his favorite because of the front snap.
Max was determined as his fingers pushed and unsnapped the clasp between my breasts. Slowly he took my bra off, soaking up the part of me he’d seen so many times before. He lowered his head and pressed his warm, damp mouth against me, teasing my nipple between his lip and tongue. Sparks ignited down
stairs as I gasped and held my breath. But unlike all the times before, he didn’t stop to ask me if it was okay. This time his intentions were crystal clear and all mapped out.
We were topless and exploring each other like it was our first time. His body cambered over mine, his thigh muscle pressed firmly between my legs. Driving me back to the bed with every step, he captured all the heat being created low in my groin. My fingers clung to the muscles in his back as I felt them flexing with every move, every dip, and every sway of his body. I pressed my nose against his skin and inhaled his aroma, faint with sultry pine and lavender. He was my Aspen.
The butterflies low in my body kept encouraging me to go further. Who was I to argue? I thought maybe my head, the literal side of me, would crumble and give in to my emotional side—my heart. But I knew this was what I wanted; I could feel every part of my body reinforcing the desire to be with him, so why was I scared? It’s what I’ve waited for—the moment of truth. I’m finally going to give Max that part of me we’ve both so zealously guarded; the part of me nobody has ever known, not even me.
The back of my legs collided with the edge of the bed and we both stopped kissing. Max pulled away and pressed his hand in the space just above my breasts. My hands slipped around his sculptured biceps. My heart spoke to him in rhythm.
Mesmerized by his commanding green eyes as they danced up my skin, he soaked up every square inch of my body with a hunger I’ve never felt before, and spoke silent answers for every question I felt.
When our eyes met, my butterflies scrambled to regroup. He bit his bottom lip between his teeth, teasing me into wanting him to skate the tip of his tongue across every inch of my body. I wanted him all to myself, every moment of every day.
Wilson Mooney Eighteen at Last Page 12