“Miss me?”
“Like a toothache. To think I liked you before your hearing. Just goes to show you reality never lives up to the dream.”
“Did you dream of me, Kitten?”
That snaps her mouth shut or at least, I thought it would. I was apparently wrong.
“I think it only fair to warn you, Max, you are an asshole.”
“You’re tempting me, sweetheart.”
“Yeah well, you’re pissing me off so I’d say we were even.”
“You do get that you are my hostage, right?” I ask because apparently she needs reminding.
“I offered to help you! You dick! What happens? You chain me up and leave me alone again! I specifically asked you not to! I even said please!”
“I told you I’d be back! I had to make sure you didn’t escape! Remember? Hostage?”
“I told you I would help you!”
“And, I told you I’d be back,” I stress again.
“What would have happened to me if one of those men from the prison had found me while you were gone, Max? You left me helpless!” She growls.
She might have a point there, and I curse my stupidity. Still, she’s way too stubborn for her own good.
“You need to stop pushing me.”
“You need to stop leaving me alone!”
I grab her by the back of her neck and pull her face up to me so that our lips are just a breath away from each other. Even then, even knowing what I’ve done in my life, it is not fear in her eyes. It’s excitement.
“You’re playing with fire.” Her tongue slips from between her lips and rubs gently against her bottom lip. Her beautiful hazel eyes are glowing and so fucking intense. “You should be praying that I leave you alone, woman.”
“I know,” she breathes.
“Then, why aren’t you?”
“Hell if I know, Max.”
“This can’t happen, Tess.”
“I know.”
“I’m going to take you into town tomorrow and drop you off. I have to.” Even telling her that hurts. It’s true though. If we react this strongly to each other after only two days, what the hell would it be like to be near her longer? I can’t chance it. When I clearly see the disappointment in her eyes, I hate myself. For the first time since I pulled the trigger, I regret my decision. Tess offers a promise of a better life, of a life worth living. It’s too late.
“Okay, Max,” she whispers, and the remorse in her eyes cuts me wide open.
“Tess…”
“You could kiss me goodbye.”
“It might not stop at that,” I tell her in complete honesty.
“I’m not sure I care.”
“You should. You’re tempting fate, Kitten.”
“Are you going to talk all evening or kiss me?”
“You don’t like talking?”
“When you grab a lady like you just did, you kind of promise her something...”
My lips crash into hers, stopping her words and swallowing them. My tongue angrily takes over her mouth because I am angry. I’m angry at her for letting me do this, and I’m angry at the world for giving me everything I ever wanted; when it’s too late. Most of all, I’m angry at myself. If I had known Tess was waiting for me, things would have been different. When we pull away from each other, I watch as those emerald eyes of hers slowly open, shining at me and promising me things I can’t have.
“Damn, Max, you sure know how to kiss,” she breathes.
“Right back at you, Kitten,” I growl, before claiming her lips again.
Maybe I could keep her, one more day….
11
Tess
My body is on fire by the time our second kiss ends. I want more, and it’s on the tip of my tongue to demand it. Max does something surprising though. He reaches over, unchains me from the bed, and helps me to stand.
“Will you give yourself to me tonight?”
His gruff voice vibrates through me. I get the feeling he’s asking for more than just sex. I try to remind myself of all of the reasons I should say no. I can’t. It’s just not in me; I want this. It may never go past tonight, but I want tonight.
“Yes.”
My answer somehow makes those dark eyes of his deepen. I’m expecting him to make love to me right then, right there. So, it surprises me when he leaves me on the bed and goes to the wash basin. He takes one of the hundreds of gallon jugs of water stacked neatly in the corner and pours it into the basin he emptied earlier. I watch as he strips off his shirt. The tattoos on his shoulder and chest grab my eyes first before he turns to give me his back.
“Tess, come and wash my hair,” he orders.
It doesn’t even occur to me to argue. The truth is; I want to wash his hair. I want the privilege of running my fingers through his hair. I want to touch him and mark him, as he’s marked me. My hand goes to my neck; rubbing the marks he left there the day before. I walk to him; he gives me that slight smile that I’ve seen escape him a few times and hands me a small travel bottle of shampoo. I put it down and grab an old plastic cup and go about washing his hair.
“Go back and sit down and wait for me,” he orders when I finish.