I tilted my head to the side to give him better access, though I said, "Don't start something you can't finish."
I felt a small laugh rumble in his chest. "Have you ever known finishing to be a problem of mine?"
I slapped his arm lightly. "You're bad."
He spun me around and lifted me onto the counter, stepping between my thighs. I wrapped my arms around his neck as he slipped his around my waist.
"Not bad for you." He said the words as a statement, but his eyes let me know that they were a question too. He was asking me, pleading with me, to tell him that he was good enough.
And just as I'd done every time he'd needed this reassurance from me over the past two months, I gave it willingly, knowing that I was the reason he needed it in the first place. I just hoped that, with time, I could relieve all of the hurt I'd caused him. "No, you're the very best thing for me." I leaned in and kissed him sweetly.
"I love you, doll."
"I love you too. Now let me off of this counter before I show you just how much," I said with a wink.
His hands clamped my hips roughly as he slid me hard against his waist, as if daring me to follow through with my threat. He stayed there for a moment, giving me access to the feel of his steadily growing erection. Finally, when he knew I’d been sufficiently teased, he backed up and I hopped down from my perch, missing the feel of him against me immediately. I was still amazed that I'd been able to ignore my feelings for so long because part of me had always known that no one fit me like Max did. We were two halves of the same coin, two adjoining pieces of the same puzzle. We just fit . . . in every way.
Max swatted my ass as I walked past him with the plate. He picked up the dessert dishes I'd retrieved before he'd come in and followed me out of the kitchen. "Just so you know," he said behind me as we approached our parents, "you will be showing me how much you love me as soon as we get home."
And I smiled. I almost corrected him, but decided against it. Instead, I'd spend the rest of my life showing him that I wasn't only interested in demonstrating my love in the privacy of our home. I wanted it to be on permanent display so the whole world knew that Max Samson was mine.
And I was his.
***
The rest of the night passed by smoothly, and we made our exit soon after my parents headed back to their hotel.
Normally Max never missed an opportunity to touch me in some way, no matter how small. But as the night had worn on, his touch was noticeably absent. And in the car, I couldn't help but notice the determination on his face, as if he were struggling with something. When I moved my hand to the center console to brush his, he jerked back before I made contact. That's when it dawned on me: the bastard was going to make me beg.
Max had perfected the art of driving me insane. Actually, I often thought he had been specifically built for that purpose alone. But this was a game that two could play.
When we arrived home, I followed him up the path to the front door. As he unlocked it, I pressed into him from behind, causing my chest to rest on his strong back.
He ceased all movement. "What are you doing?" he asked.
"Just a little cold," I replied, adding a shiver for good measure.
"It's August, doll." He turned slightly so he could see me.
I simply quirked an eyebrow at him in response. He finally opened the door, and as soon as we were inside, I started shedding clothes. It began innocently, me slipping off my red, peep-toe pumps one at a time and dropping them to the ground.
But then came my halter top. And then my jeans. I sprinkled these up the stairs as I made my way to the bedroom. When I was about four steps from the top, I unclasped my bra and let it fall to the stairs. I didn't need to look back to know that Max hadn't moved from the foyer. I could feel his eyes on me, enjoying the show, yet trying like hell not to sprint up the stairs and carry me the rest of the way to our bed. Once I was upstairs and out of his eyesight, I took off my last remaining article of clothing: my black lace panties. I giggled to myself as I tossed them over the railing. When I heard his footsteps pounding against the floor in pursuit, I dashed toward our bedroom, laughing the whole way.
I stopped just before the bed and turned around, observing him as he slowly stalked toward me, as a predator would approach its prey. I watched him shuck his own clothing, so that when he reached me he was completely nude.
He laid his hands on my shoulders, and then began to drag them down my arms, before moving them to my stomach, and back up so he could fondle my breasts.
"I love seeing my hands on you," he said slowly, my body instantly responding to the sound of his raspy voice against my ear.
"I love feeling them there." I wanted to roll my head back and bask in the pleasure his hands were doling out, but there was something so primitively erotic about watching him appraise my body that I couldn't look away.
He stepped closer to me, his erection pushing into my pelvis deliciously.