“What kind of thing?”
“Just a stupid kids’ song.”
“And…”
“You’re really not going to give this up, are you?”
“Not in a million years.” He gives me a cheeky grin. “Spill it, bubbles.”
I sit up a little straighter, which means I pull out of his grip. His hand moves from my shoulder to my leg—my thigh more specifically—and that searing heat returns.
It licks between my legs and travels all the way through my body to heat my face. From there, it tunnels down, traveling deep to my core, reverberating and building, warming my blood, until it makes my heart race.
These sensations are new for me. Not that I’ve never had sex before. I’m no virgin. I’ve had my share of heated encounters and the sexcapades that followed, but I’ve never felt anything like this; a burning urgency building within me.
“You need to stop squirming like that,” he says.
“I’m not squirming.”
“Luv, you most definitely are, and it’s a bit distracting.” He shifts again, wincing with the movement of his leg.
That’s when I notice a prominent bulge in his pants that wasn’t there a moment ago.
Evidently, I’m not the only one affected, which makes this burning need within me a thousand times worse. I feel like a cat in heat, eager to rub myself all over Max and claim him as mine, but he’s injured. We can’t—I can’t do what I want. Not to mention the whole hiding out in a tree thing we have going on.
I rub at my cheeks as our gazes clash together and tangle in a frisson of need. The moment stretches until the corners of his lips twist up into the most cocky, arrogant, and perfectly beautiful smirk I’ve ever encountered.
“Damn, Eve, the expression on your face, the way your face flushes, it’s so fucking hot. If we were anywhere else…” He trails off, not needing to finish what he wants to say. Not that he needs to. Evidently, we’re both thinking the exact same thing.
“Yeah...” A smile curves my lips. “Same page?”
“Fucking same page.” He glances down at his lap and gives a shake of his head. “I ache for you in the best possible way.”
“Is this weird?”
“Weird?”
“The way we feel?”
“There’s nothing weird about what’s going on.” He wraps an arm around me, lifts me into the air like I weigh nothing, and spins me around until I face him. Gingerly, Max guides my knees to either side of his thighs as he positions me the way he wants. “Nothing weird at all about this.”
Conscious of his injured leg, I turn my attention to his bicep and the long gash in his shirt. Matted with blood, dirt, and grime, I pull apart the fabric to take a look at the injury below.
“How does that not hurt?”
“Pain is but a state of being.”
I look down at his leg, very aware that I’m straddling his injury. Shifting to keep my weight off the bullet wound, I explore the cut on his arm.
“I wish there was a way to clean this up. Do you have any idea how long we’re going to be holed up here?”
“A day or two at most. Once the Guardians secure the other girls, they’ll come for us.”
“Let’s hope it’s sooner, rather than later.”
“Why sooner?”
“I just figured you were ready to finish this mission.”
“The mission, yes, but, bubbles…” He gives me a long, hard look. “This thing between us is happening. We’re only just starting. I think we can safely say we’ve gone beyond the point of no return.”
“We’ve barely kissed.”
“Doesn’t matter.” He thumps his chest. “I already feel you in here.”
I bite my lower lip, trying to process what he says.
“The gears in that head of yours are working pretty damn hard. Do yourself a favor, bubbles, and kiss me already.” Max looks at me with mirth in his eyes, arousal flooding his words, and a promise on his breath for a future I can barely hope for.
I can’t help but grin. “That’s kind of what I was thinking about.”
“What’s that?”
I sing for him. “Eve and Max, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G.”
“Now that’s something I can definitely get on board with. Kiss me, bubbles. Stop tormenting me and put me out of my misery.”
I lean forward and kiss him. He grips my hips, steadying me, as my lips brush against his.
Max takes over from there, applying the perfect mix of pressure and friction with his lips on mine. His hands move, traveling up my back, tangling in the hair at my nape. He tugs, forcing my head back as the kiss moves from my lips to the angle of my jaw, then to my earlobe.
A sigh escapes me as he sucks gently, then follows up with his tongue. He combines light licks, moderate suction, and dizzying friction to drive me insane. Combine that with the low vibrations of his moan and I about come right there.
The man is most definitely skilled. If he can turn me into a puddle of need with a kiss on my earlobe, what can he do in other places?
Sadly, I won’t find out. Our current predicament doesn’t lend itself to hot and sweaty sex. Not to mention, stripping down will expose my skin to a multitude of stinging, biting insects.
Max surrenders my earlobe and returns to my lips.
“You taste like sin.” He pulls back to look at me. His gaze travels across my face, taking in my lips, my nose, my eyes, my hair. “So fucking beautiful.”
“You’re not so bad yourself.”
Max reaches between us and makes a crude adjustment. The backs of his knuckles sweep against my inner thigh, and I’m acutely aware of how close his hand is to my core.
His attention shifts back to my mouth, gaze darkening with desire, hungry for more as well.
“We can’t really…” I bite my lower lip, feeling a little shy. Talking about having sex with the hottest man I’ve ever met is difficult. Hard. Nearly impossible, but the kindness in his eyes helps.
Such dichotomy in one man is unusual. I’ve seen him laser-focused, a warrior intent on killing another man, and I’ve seen this. This beautiful man filled with tenderness and affection.
For me.
“I feel like I need to pinch myself.”
“Why?”
“Like I said, this feels like a dream.”
“You feel good in my arms.” His hands drift down along my spine. He gently grasps my waist. His hands are so big, they nearly encircle my waist. “You belong here.”
“Here?”
“In my arms. In my life.” His hands slide down to my hips, then lower still until he cups my ass. “Anywhere else on the planet, I’d already be inside of you, sliding home. I ache to have you.”
“We could…”
“Too distracting.” He gives a sharp shake of his head and glances over my shoulder. “Not to mention, getting caught out here with our pants down is a bad idea.” That cheeky grin of his returns and he lowers his voice to a whisper. “I’m also not packing.”
“Packing?”
“Protection, bubbles.” He winks at me, and I about die right there. I might be a little shy talking about sex, but he hits it straight on.