Becoming His

I turn my attention to the crowd still dancing around us. It’s a few hours into the party and a good number of people are already inebriated, while several more hang on the cusp of being so. Most people are having a good time, laughing and talking loudly, flirting as they dance and drink, but as alcohol creates fun for some, it’s also starting to cause drama as I notice a few girls trying to wipe makeup and tears from their faces and couples fighting publicly, not sober enough to care about their surroundings.

Max must realize I’m not paying attention to their conversation because he says a quick goodbye and grabs my hand, pulling me back in the direction we’d been dancing.

We begin dancing again. The music and Max invade my senses, intoxicating me as his hands slide up and down the curves of my body, making my nerves ultra-sensitive with the anticipation of feeling the warmth and pressure of his fingers. His pelvis presses against me, and his lips glide up and down my neck in hot lingering trails.

It all becomes too much. I snake my hand under Max’s shirt and watch his eyes darken and his mouth go a little slack as he reaches his breaking point as well.

“Let’s go.” His voice comes out deep and husky, and I close my eyes and nod. Max grips my sides, allowing me to navigate through the still packed house, continuing to gently squeeze my sides while lightly tracing along the line of my hips.

When we reach the front door I come to a stop and palm my forehead. “My keys. Jameson has my keys.”

Max shakes his head. “They can take your car. I drove him.” Before I can reply, he sweeps an arm under my legs, catching me slightly off guard. I wrap my arms around his neck and he carries me across the yard without another word.

When we reach his Jeep, Max unlocks the doors and sets me down slowly, as though he’s not certain he wants to release me. His hands linger on my lower back as we stare silently at each other. The intense look that we share conveys our need and desire.

Max opens the passenger door and I slide in, making sure that I don’t touch him, knowing that if I start now, there’s no way I’ll be able to stop. I take deep breaths of Max as he closes my door and crosses to the other side.

The only sounds are our slightly labored breaths and the quiet stream of the radio as we steal glances of one another. Our eyes lock and something passes between us as we both realize the line we’re about to cross. Nerves and excitement course through me since we’re going at least twenty over the speed limit. The practical side of me wants to tell him to slow down as the needle edges higher, but my lips refuse to utter the words.

Max pulls into the driveway. I quickly undo my seat belt and open my door, sliding out in one fluid motion. Max is beside me in the blink of an eye with the most smoldering look in his eyes. After reading so many books, I’ve often wondered if it was possible to communicate a desire with just a look, and I know in this moment it is.

I reach forward and slide my arms around Max’s neck, pulling myself flush against his chest, and kiss him with all of the heat, passion, and desire that’s been swirling around inside of me for what feels like an eternity. He responds instantly with a matching need, pressing my back against his Jeep. His hands glide along the bottom of my dress, slowly inching up my thighs until the dress restricts him from going any higher.

Gripping his hand in mine, I pull him toward the front door and take his keys from his loose fist and turn to unlock the door as his hands run over my dress. I finally manage to focus on the door long enough to open it, take the few steps required to get us in, and lock it behind us before turning to the staircase.

Anticipation races through me, as well as a burning sense of empowerment from the look that Max gives me confirming that he wants this too. I begin ascending the stairs, draping my hand over the banister for support, hoping that I look graceful rather than stiff like I feel.

I climb six stairs before I look over my shoulder to Max and pause. Reaching up to my hair, I remove the few pins and my hair tumbles around my shoulders and down my back. Max’s eyes fill with lust and desire, and yet I can see the determined look silently telling me we still have several weeks to wait.

Before his thoughts can progress, I brace myself against the railing and reach forward to take the tail of his tie between my fingers and gently tug on it, pulling him towards me before I drop it and saunter up the stairs, letting my hips sway. Max is behind me before I reach the top, his hands pressing against my lower stomach as we hit the landing.

We make it to his bedroom in a tangled mess of groping hands. I hear the door close, and briefly wonder how he managed to do so because his hands haven’t moved from ru

My fingers run through his short hair, and I feel something building inside of me that I need to translate. I attempt to by gently biting his bottom lip before pulling my head back, allotting myself enough space to release his tie. He allows me easy access, holding his chin high, as I loosen the knot. As I slip the silk from around his neck, he grazes my ear with his teeth, sending a current of heat and electricity through me that makes it difficult for my hands to focus on releasing the small buttons of his shirt.

Max kisses a path to my lips, and the silkiness of his tongue against mine causes my hands to falter as I momentarily lose all focus. His hands meet mine at the front of his shirt, and he gently moves them away before giving one harsh tug to his shirt, creating an echo of tinkling as the buttons scatter across the wood floor. Max pulls the shirt from his arms, exposing a tight white T-shirt that my hands instantly work to remove. I exert little energy before he reaches down and removes it.

“Max, I want you,” I whisper, staring into his cobalt eyes. They’ve become more heated and alive with want as they dance across my face.

I softly place my hand against his chest and lean forward, kissing him slowly; it’s a tantalizing kiss—a promise, an invitation.

I break away so I can turn around and pull my hair over my shoulder in a silent request to remove my dress. Warmth radiates from his body as he hovers behind me and my heart races. My fears and concerns of rejection whirl through me, making my palms sweat as the moment stretches. Suddenly I feel his lips trace along my spine as his hands settle against my back. He deftly unclasps the dress and lowers the zipper to my tailbone where it ends. I hear his breathing increase, becoming slightly ragged.

Digging my elbows into my sides, I securely hold the dress in place and quickly work to submerge my insecurities. I release my arms and the dress falls around my feet. I hear Max’s intake of breath as I stand in front of him, wearing nothing but a black lace thong and my black heels. My heart pounds so hard in my chest I fear he can hear it.

Slowly turning to face him, I feel a nervous energy course through me as I find his eyes burning into mine. “I need you Max,” I whisper, praying he won’t stop things this time. I don’t think I can take the rejection or humiliation … not when we’re this close.

Max presses his lips to mine, entwining his fingers in my hair. His other hand travels down my back, splaying over the lace of my panties, holding me firmly against him. I feel his chest warm against mine.

This isn’t the first time that I’ve been naked in front of Max; however the last time a lot of alcohol had been consumed and my inhibitions were practically nonexistent, along with my memories of that night. I feel him groan against my mouth, his hands tightening, sending me even further down this path of desire.