Another One Bites the Dust (3 page)

There would be times I’d wake up, and have him on the line without even realizing it.  I’d wake up to him talking to me quietly, soothing my fears down.  He’d stay on the phone with me for nearly an hour waiting for me to calm down enough to go back to sleep.

Before I had Max, I would lay awake for hours, until daylight kissed the sky, scared to even get out of bed.  I’d been on medication, but all it did was keep me in a dreaming state, reliving my personal nightmare over and over again, unable to wake up fully.

The past three months have been miraculous, and it was all because of Max.  I was ready a month ago, but I was too scared to admit it.  Now, he was leaving, and he could very well not come back.  I was scared shitless.

Scrounging up the courage that I no longer had, I knocked on the door.  Heavy footsteps sounded behind the door, and I waited while the lock was turned, and the chain was released.  It felt like an eternity before the door opened.

Max was a beautiful specimen of a man.  Tall and lean, muscles in all the right places.  Not bulky, but definitely not scrawny either.  He had ebony hair cropped closely to his scalp.  He had lean narrow hips that tapered up to a well-defined chest.  His eyes were a shade of green exactly like his sister’s.  A scar ran along his chin down the left side of his jaw, and disappeared behind his ear. 

His eyes lit when he saw me at in the doorway, and a little piece of hope took root in my chest. 

“Hey.”  I said.

He regarded me for a few moments before stooping down and grabbing me up in a bear hug.  His arms tightened around my back.  My hands were trapped between us, and my face squeezed up into the crook of his chin.  My feet dangled a good ten inches off the floor.

At four feet eleven and a half inches, it was standard procedure to encounter a person taller than me.  Max, however, towered over me with his six foot one inch height.  His face was buried in my neck, and I giggled at the ridiculousness of being held nearly a foot off the ground.

“What are you doing here?  Did you have a nightmare?  I’m so sorry; I didn’t realize my phone was dead until I got back in from the party.”  Max said with his head still buried in my neck.

His voice sent shivers down my spine.  He had such a low deep voice.  He could easily compete with that country singer, Josh Turner, who could kill a low note.  Such a rich deep voice was made for seducing women.  All he had to do was say my name, and I was gone.  During our many late night conversations, I would calm with just listening to the deep cadence of his voice, droning on and on about nothing consequential.

He seemed concerned that he might have missed my call.  “You didn’t miss my call.  I’ve been outside for twenty minutes trying to work up the courage to come knock on the door.  Ember told me you’re leaving.  I didn’t want you to leave and not hear from me before you go.”

He set me down on my feet and searched my eyes, looking for something.  “That’s all you wanted?”

Heat crept up my neck, and Max laughed when he saw the blush.

“Are you trying to tell me you finally want me, and I have to leave the damn country in the morning?”  He asked gruffly.

My mouth opened and closed like a fish.  My face felt like it was on fire, and I didn’t know what to say.  I mean yes, on one hand, I wanted him as I wanted my next breath.  On the other hand, however, I was scared shitless that he was going to leave and never come back.

“Yes and no.”  I finally got out.

He raised a brow in question, so I continued.

“I want you more than I want my next breath.”  I squeezed out.

“Baby, you can have me.  I only have one night, but you can bet your cookie stash in your nightstand drawer that when I get back, I’ll be in your bed.  If we do this, your mine.  Don’t mistake this as some one-night kind of thing.  You will be mine.”

I was left speechless.  I mean sure, he did say he wanted me before he found out about my attack.  When I’d told him some of the details, he’d backed off, and I took that to mean that he was no longer interested.  He answered my calls in the night, and I leaned more towards thinking that he felt sorry for me, rather than wanting me.

Guess I was wrong.

“I’m a hot mess, Max.”  I said to him.

He gave a throaty laugh.  “Honey, we’re all hot messes.  Some more than others.  You and I are probably neck in neck in the screwed up race.”

“You’re not screwed up.  Now, we’re wasting all of our time.  Take me to bed, or lose me forever.”  I said, trying to contain my laugh.

Max didn’t.  “Show me the way home, honey.” 

    With that, he bent low at the waist, and I was up and over his shoulder.  Each step bounced me up and down, and I had a nice view of his perfectly tight ass.  My hands itched to grab and squeeze, but I wasn’t the type of person who would initiate anything.

My way of doing things was by playing everything off; I hid behind my sarcastic sense of humor.  Just like earlier with my Top Gun comment, I made light of something, when in reality I wanted to jump his bones like there was no tomorrow.

Looking around, I admired his sense of style.  The living room was homey and comfortable.  Although it had white walls, there were photos hung on the walls.  Most likely thanks to his sister who seemed to have a camera attached to her ass at all times.  There was a large sectional that took up three quarters of the room, and it looked so very comfortable.

He took me down a long hallway, and I made note to come back and look at the family portrait tomorrow morning before I left.  Walking at a fast clip, we winded up in his bedroom, and I found myself flying through the air, slamming into a bed that felt like clouds.

“Oh, Lord have mercy.  You have one comfortable bed.  I could totally sleep in this thing forever.  I bet even crumbs wouldn’t ruin this experience.”  I said, while moving my arms and legs in and out making an imaginary snow angel.

“You can have the bed if you like it that much.”  Max said while ridding himself of his shirt.

“I’ll just sleep here since you won’t be here to use it anyway.”  I said absently.

“That would be okay, if you wanted to do that.  I don’t mind in the least.  It also might help your nightmares.”  He said casually, almost as if he didn’t care in the least.

He did care though, so much that he was trying to offer me his place where he knew it was safer, without offending my sense of independence.  Everything in me screamed to take him up on the offer, but I knew if I did, that I would never want to leave.  He’d get tired of me being here eventually, and I didn’t want to set myself up for failure.

Hoping to divert his attention, I ran my eyes up and down his bared torso.  “You’re gorgeous.” 

He was, too.  His chest was well defined.  The majority of his chest was unblemished and beautiful.  There was a small portion of his upper right chest and arm that had some scarring, but from this angle, I didn’t know if it continued to his back or not.  From what I could tell, it wasn’t too bad.  Just a few puckered scars that looked like maybe some shrapnel got ahold of him.  He could have been much worse; my hours of volunteering at the local VA hospital showed me that.

I was incredibly shy, and put on a good front with my wit and humor, but all of that humor deserted me at the moment.  I longed to run my hands over him, but I stayed still, hoping that he would see that I needed him to take charge.  He did.  The man never missed a damn thing.  He knew things about me that even I wasn’t aware of until he brought them to my attention.

Three weeks ago, the group all went out to eat at Cheddar’s.  For dessert, I’d ordered a brownie, and Max made sure to tell the waiter to hold the nuts, when I never even thought to ask.  I would have just picked them out once it arrived, but he noticed me do that only once.

His arms went to the waistband of my pants, and unzipped them slowly.  My breath stalled in my chest, and I started panicking.  Max noticed everything though, and stopped before he divested me of my jeans.

“You okay?”  He asked.

How the heck do I tell him this?  “Yes.  It’s been a while, and, um, well, Rorysaidiwasacoldfish.”

Spreading my legs wide, he kneeled down between them regarding me warmly.  “I got Rory.  The rest you said too fast.  Say it slower, Payton.”

Taking a deep breath, I said, “Rory said I was a bad lay.  That I didn’t participate, and I needed to lighten up.  I….I want it.  I do.  But I don’t know how to say it in the heat of things.”

“You listen to me,” he said leaning closer.  “This Rory shit isn’t a man.  A man wouldn’t leave his girl in the fucking street with two men attacking her.  His woman doesn’t enjoy sex with him says something about the man, not the woman.  It’s the man’s job to figure out what the woman likes, what will bring out the wild in her.  Let me let you in on a little secret; I can make you wild.  Don’t doubt it.”

My mouth went dry, and I had nothing to say to that.  Instead, I lifted my hips off the bed so he could take my pants off more easily.  He took the invitation for what it was, and took off my jeans.  My panties were exposed, and suddenly I felt immensely embarrassed.  If I had known I was going to be doing this today, I wouldn’t have worn these.

Studying my panties with a smile he said, “Angry Birds, eh?  Are these boy’s underwear?” 

My face went up in flames.  Taking the pillow on the bed next to my head, I buried my face into it.  “Oh, my God.  Omygodohmygod!”

“It’s cute.  I didn’t realize grown women could wear boy’s underwear, but strangely, you wear them well.  I don’t think I’ll look at an Angry Bird the same way again.”  Max chuckled.

Throwing the pillow off my face, I scowled at him with the fierceness of a rabid badger.  “You don’t know how freaking hard it is to find things in my size.  I’m so freaking small that everything fits weird.  Panties from the women’s department fit like granny panties.  So I shop in the boys section for socks and underwear.”

He watched me with his sparkling eyes, and then burst out laughing.  “You just made me a happy man.  Can I have a picture of you in these before I leave?”

The mention of him leaving brought me out of my embarrassment.  Now I just felt sadness.  I wish I’d taken him up on that relationship offer months ago.  Now he was leaving, and who knew when I would see him again.  Reaching up, I ran my hand down over his scratchy haired jaw.  He was such a beautiful man. 

“Take me.”  I whispered while looking deep into his eyes.

“I’ve never wanted to do anything more in my life.”  He said, and then kissed me senseless.

His tongue worked over mine, plunging and tangling, sucking my bottom lip, and then nipping it softly.  He grunted, and then I was shirtless, too.  I bit my lip.  I wasn’t self-conscious about my body, or I wasn’t until Max started running his eyes over my body hungrily.

My body reminded me of most fourteen year olds.  Short, no boobs, and absolutely no curves.  I worked out from time to time, so I was in fairly decent shape, but you can’t fix something you don’t have.  I was a soccer player in high school, and still enjoyed the odd game here and there when I had time.

He growled in frustration.  I was wearing a camisole underneath my shirt, just as I normally did.  I’m a very clumsy person, and I end up changing my shirt at least once a week because I dripped queso down my boobs, or leaned in something, requiring me to change my shirt.  Therefore, I got smart and always wore a camisole instead of a bra, because honestly I didn’t need one anyway.

 “You’re beautiful.  Stop worrying.”  He said before running his finger over my lip to stop me from biting it.

His eyes zeroed in on the tattoo that peaked out at the bottom of my camisole.  I held my breath in anticipation.  What would he think of it?  I got it on a whim.  It was my eighteenth birthday, and I felt the need to do something that would piss my parents off. Earlier that day they had grounded me for sneaking out the night before.  For that reason, I snuck out again and got a tattoo that I knew they would hate.

His large rough palmed hand ran up my left side, slowly lifting my shirt as he skimmed it up my body.  He froze when he saw it.  Then bellowed with laughter.  I scowled at him, and then cracked a smile myself.  It was a weird tattoo, but I loved it.

On my hip, I sported a six-shooter.  It spanned from just above my hipbone, down to right at the top of my bikini line on my thigh.  It was actually quite beautiful with its elegant scrollwork on the shiny metal.  It looked like an old west type of gun, and I was damn lucky I’d gone to a reputable tattoo artist, instead of one that would have made it look like shit. 

His laughing stopped, and finally he said, “This is the best tattoo I’ve ever seen.”

I smiled.  I was happy he liked it.  “It sticks out the top of my jeans, too.  So, when I’m wearing pants, it looks like I have a gun in the waistband.  At eighteen, it was the best “fuck you” I could give to my parents.  Or at least all I could think of at the time.”

His other hand went up the other side of my shirt, and he ran his hands up until he encountered the shelf bra section of the camisole.  Stopping for a moment, he closed his eyes, and then lifted the shirt up and over my breasts.  They popped free of their enclosure, and then bounced until settling.  My nipples beaded at the feeling of cold air hitting them, and then my mouth watered as I watched Max study them with a fierce concentration.

Lowering his head, he gave one nipple a slow light lick, flicking it lightly with the tip of his tongue.  Then he switched to the other breast.  My nipples were harder than ever, and I moaned, wanting him to suck them into his mouth.  Not that I said that though.  I arched a tiny bit, and then let my back fall back to the bed.

“More?”  Max asked.

“Yes.”  I hissed.

He gave a devilish smile, and then lifted the shirt the rest of the way off my body.  There I lay, naked except for my angry bird underwear, and he was still mostly clothed.  His pants, belt, socks, and shoes were still covering the lower half of his body.  I eyed them, wishing he would take them off so I could see his body.

“You want me naked?”  He asked aware of my silent need.