Releasing my mouth, his lips press to mine, soft and sweet. We kiss slowly as I catch my breath. I never knew anything could feel this good. Being held by him and kissed by him makes me feel complete. If I could get closer, have more of my body connected to his, I would. His fingers slide from inside me as he lowers me to the ground. My legs shake as they take my weight.
We finally break ourkiss.
I gaze up at him and reach to stroke his freshly shaven jaw. "That was nice."
He grins wickedly and puts his fingers in his mouth, sucking on them. "I agree."
My cheeks burn. "How do you go from being so sweet to so crude in the space of a few seconds?"
"I was never sweet."
"Okay, Max. You keep telling yourself that."
Walking a few steps away from him, I begin to undress. My eyes stay trained on his as I slowly expose more skin. He clenches his jaw as he studies me. I walk around in front of him, completely bare, and feel his eyes everywhere as I bend over and search for my knickers, bra, and thigh-length red party dress.
As I turn to face him again, my gaze drops to his groin. He's grown, his erection a clearly defined ridge in his tan chinos.
I peer up into his dark, narrowed eyes. "You must struggle to hide that sometimes."
His lips become sharp and menacing. "You're very lucky that there are people out there."
"Are you bigger than most guys?" I ask, ignoring his provocative tone.
"You wanna talk about cocks with me? That'll help hide it."
I giggle and begin to dress. "I've only ever really seen yours up close."
His brow lifts. "Up close?"
"Well, I saw Bronson's, but only for a moment."
"Hmm." His lips twitch. "Let's keep it that way."
My fingers fumble for my zipper as Max moves behind me, closing the space between us. He kisses my shoulder andI quiver. His fingers touch the slither of skin between the open zip. I inhale, waiting.Wanting...
The zip slides up.
"No. You're not sweet at all." I breathe out fast, spinning to face him.
My body melts under his smile. It's boyish and real.
"I wanna hold your hand, but it's not a good idea out there," he says as his smile loses its shine. "Stay close to me. Let's go get a drink."
I follow him out, passing the banquet tables and groups of people standing around talking, until we get to the bar where Bronson, Xander, Clay, and three other men I don't know are sitting on bar stools. One of the nameless men is hard to ignore with his craggy face, scratched and craterous. He isn't drinking or conversing; I get the impression he's not simply a guest.
A guard perhaps.
The Butcher brothers all look dapper in their dress pants and shirts. My God, they have good genes.
I peer around the room. "Where's Flick?"
"She's with Stacey. They left just after the show," Xander answers me as he peers around the room, his eyes missing nothing.
Bronson smirks. "You look flushed."
I smile back. "Thanks for pointing that out."
Aurora suddenly appears in front of me. "You were wonderful. Thank you so much. You did my twenty-five fouettés!" She engulfs me in her long, elegant arms.
