But I ignored the faint noise, focused instead on the tenderness of his lips as he coaxed mine apart and I felt his tongue meet mine. I released a shaky breath, one that seemed to take the starch from my bones and had me sagging a little even as I tilted my head to accept more of his kiss.
I was used to the very brief kisses we’d shared and to the feel of his lips rubbing against my cheek, my forehead. He’d even kissed my closed eyelids once when he’d thought I was awake but was just dozing. He rubbed his chin over my jaw, would even touch his nose to mine. I was used to holding his hand, or to having one of his hands somewhere on my body; constantly connecting the pair of us.
But this?
An extended kiss?
That he initiated, rather than me?
Yeah, the fire down below turned into a conflagration.
I had to fight back the urge to moan, but only because Derek was there. A silent but very aware witness.
Instead, I reached up, letting my fingers splay across the back of Max’s neck. I let them trace through the silky black hair that I’d grown used to brushing off his brow these past few months, and it was only then that I realized how intimate we’d been without ever taking it X-rated.
I was used to his touch.
So accustomed to it that it was as easy as breathing now.
Just like I was well at ease with touching him in return. I knew the feel of his stubble against my fingers on a morning, and his hair, the onyx locks, I knew the tickle of it against my forehead. I’d squeezed his biceps more times than I could count, sometimes to tease him about how damn big he was, but mostly, out of excitement, out of a need to share my glee over something. I felt no compunction about grabbing his hand out of the blue, squeezing his fingers with mine.
It shouldn’t have been a revelation, but it was, and it had me pressing down on the back of his neck to make sure he didn’t move. When he speared his tongue against my own, I knew he’d received the message.
Loud and clear.
He fluttered his carefully along my own, and I let him. I’d been so long out of this game that I was a little unsure of myself, and was grateful he was willing to take pointe on this. He tilted his head for better access and this time, I did moan when he began to sup from me, dragging up feelings I’d thought were dead and buried for life.
“For crying out loud, why don’t you two just get a room?”
My eyes flared wide at that and I pulled back at Derek’s snark. My cheeks burned a hot pink, but Max, though he let me go, didn’t really react. His eyes were heavy lidded, and I saw, in those crystalline depths, the promise of more.
More.
I wanted so much more.
I wanted everything that promise offered me. From him though, only him.
“Stop being a prick, Derek,” he told one of his best friends and PA, his tone gravelly but without much heat.
“Don’t ask too much from him,” I said, my voice just as hoarse. “It’s too hard to go totally against the grain, Max.”
For a second, silence fell, then Max barked out a laugh and his head whipped around to pin Derek with a stare. “She’s got you there, bud.”
I was surprised when Derek just snorted, but I could see he was amused.
My cheeks burned a little hotter, but this was something else Max had uncovered.
My snarky sense of humor.
It had been buried for so long,
I’d almost forgotten it had existed. But around him, hidden facets of my character were stirring once more.
I know the feminists would say that a woman didn’t need anything from a man. And while I agreed to a certain extent, I would have tempered that belief with; a woman didn’t need anything from a man unless he was willing to need her too.
And Max did need me.
Just as he unearthed aspects of my nature, I did the same with him.