She did now.
“I’ll be seeing you, Jo,” she said, and she buried her hands in her pockets and turned on her heel, heading toward the door, past the surprised Trish who had the plates of their orders in her hands. The mouthwatering aroma of the food almost made Max stop and go back, but she didn’t. She went out of the diner, into the cold, closing the door behind them.
Max and Jo had argued before, and they would argue again. Their friendship wouldn’t be ruined over something like this, but it broke Max’s heart to realize how blind she’d been about Jo for so long. Or had purposefully turned a blind eye to some of her best friend’s faults. It was an odd, painful thing, thinking the best of someone and being proven wrong. But perhaps Jo had been thinking the best of her, too. And hadn’t she proved Jo wrong today?
She’d still kissed Fiona when she thought Fiona and Jo were still dating. And for all of her excuses and feelings, it was still wrong. And Max would probably feel guilty about it for the rest of her life.
But now…now things had changed.
And right now, she wasn’t feeling guilty about anything.
Max all but ran to her car, all but drove all the way to Fiona’s house with her foot pressing the gas pedal so hard, it was to the floor. She didn’t know if Fiona would be home yet—she usually stayed late at the cupcake shop on Monday evenings especially, Max knew—but when she pulled into the driveway, it was behind Fiona’s car.
It was awfully late to show up at anyone’s front door, and Max walked slowly up the shoveled walkway, her feet crunching on salt crystals until she stood at the front door nervously. She stood for a moment until she felt something brush against her legs. She almost leapt out of her skin and stared down at the plaintively meowing Larry.
The cat leaned against her legs and began to purr.
So Max bolstered her courage, lifted her hand and knocked on the door.
Chapter 11: Complete
Max waited for a long moment on that cold front step and wondered if she should turn around and leave. Or knock again. But as she considered her options, she heard the lock drawn. The door opened, and there was Fiona. Her glorious red, wavy hair was messy, as if she’d just gotten up from lying down, and she was wearing purple pajamas covered in cupcakes. She gazed at Max with wide eyes, her soft, full lips parted.
Now that she was here, Max’s voice caught and she realized there was nothing she could say, because words failed her. She was undone as she stared at Fiona, as she realized that she was finally, finally going after what she wanted.
Max stepped forward quietly, and Fiona did not move, her eyes shining bright as Max gathered her in her arms slowly, carefully, like the precious thing that she was. And then the screen door was closing behind Max as she stepped into the warmth of Fiona’s small house, pressing Fiona up against the wall of her hallway.
And Max kissed her.
It was tentative at first, as if questioning if this was all right, but Fiona’s mouth was open, hungry, wrapping her arms tightly around Max’s neck and pulling the taller woman’s face down to her own. She tasted of mint, like toothpaste, and her mouth was warm from the heat of her body and cold from the mint at the same time against Max. Max drank her in, her hands pulling Fiona to her as her fingers curled around the small of Fiona’s waist, drawing her closer, closer, until their bodies pressed against one another, Fiona’s breasts against Max’s coat, her hips hard against Max’s own.
Max struggled to stop kissing her, tasting her, and she somewhat succeeded, breaking away for a moment, breathing hard as Fiona looked up at her wonderingly.
“I told Jo,” said Max quietly, breathlessly. “And she said…” She trailed off, looking into Fiona’s eyes, searching them. “She said it was all right,” said Max, swallowing. “She’d been seeing someone else.”
Fiona shook her head. “I thought something like that was going on.” But Fiona didn’t look upset or sad—she looked happy, her bright eyes taking Max in, her mouth wet from their kissing, curled up into her beautiful smile.
“Fiona,” Max whispered, tracing her hands up from the small of Fiona’s waist to her shoulders, to her neck, to her cheeks, cupping the cream-colored skin Max had ached to taste and touch and kiss for so long. “Fiona, I love you,” she said, her voice breaking. “I think I loved you from the first moment I saw you. Is that crazy?”
Fiona’s mouth twitched into a grin, and she turned her head slightly, her lips brushing against the palm of Max’s hand. “No,” she said, her voice warm and low. “Because I love you, too.” And then Fiona was pushing Max against the opposite wall of the hallway, pressing the length of her body against Max’s, as she stood up on her tiptoes, her arms around Max’s neck, making her bend down to kiss her.
Fiona’s mouth was hot against Max’s own, and a small groan escaped Fiona as Max’s hands reached under the back of Fiona’s pajama top, her fingertips grazing the warm skin she found there. Need rushed in and filled Max in an instant, an intense need that Max had felt for weeks now, filling her with desire.
“I want you,” Max whispered in the darkness, and Fiona arched back her head so that Max could taste the sweet, smooth skin of her neck as she trailed kisses down Fiona’s jaw.
“You have me,” Fiona whispered, breathing out as Max left a tantalizing kiss on Fiona’s shoulder, the pajama top graciously accommodating Max’s journey downward as Max began to undo the top button of Fiona’s pajamas.
“Don’t you want to get out of your coat first?” Fiona laughed, and then Max was laughing, too, as she fumbled in the darkened hallway first with her boots, dripping melting snow all over the floor, and then with her coat, Fiona trying to help her. Soon she stood there in her pants and sweater and fuzzy socks, and Fiona took her hand in her own, tugging her down the hallway, through the dark kitchen and living room, and then they were in the bedroom.
Max inhaled deeply as she stood in the threshold of the room. The beautiful scent of vanilla and spicy floral filled her nose. Fiona was everywhere in this room, even that very scent of her.
Fiona closed the bedroom door quietly behind her. The lightness of the winter night, of the streetlamps on snow outside, filtered through the lace curtains, enough light for Max to see by as Fiona stood in the center of the room, looking over her shoulder at Max, her head to the side as if Fiona was considering her. Fiona turned, unbuttoning the buttons of her pajama top herself, letting it slide down over her shoulders and then to the floor in a crumpled heap as she undid the drawstring of the pajama bottoms, letting them fall to the floor like the top.
Max stared at the woman that all of her imaginings could never have done justice to, no matter how hard she tried. Her breasts made perfect curves that Max was desperate to taste and touch, the soft swell of her stomach and hips and her rounded thighs so beautiful that she reminded Max of one of those old Greek statues of women, all sweet curves and rounded breasts and swelling hips. Max crossed the space between them nervously as she placed her hands again on the rounded curve of Fiona’s hips, all of her senses on overdrive as she stepped into this moment she knew she would remember for the rest of her life.
It had been a long time since Max had been with a woman, and even then, it had never been like this, this intensity of feeling and longing and desire. She was nervous as she swallowed, tracing the outline of Fiona’s body with her eyes before gazing back up, into Fiona’s luminous face. Fiona was smiling softly, secretly at her.
“Do you like what you see?” Fiona whispered, her eyes sparkling. She bit her lip for a moment, gazed deeply into Max’s eyes. “It’s not like it used to be,” she chuckled a little self-consciously, tracing her fingers over the swell of her hips, “but…”
Max shook her head, drew the woman’s warmth to her tightly. “You are beautiful,” she whispered, burying her mouth at the curve of Fiona’s neck. “Perfect,” she whispered, tracing kisses down her shoulder to Fiona’s right breast, the heat of Fiona’s body making Max shiver with want. She touched Fio
na’s nipple tentatively, swirling her finger around it as if caressing something fragile, then brought it into her mouth.
Fiona’s head reflexively went back, and a moan escaped her as Max tasted her. The sweet scent of Fiona’s skin, the heat of her body, the sound of Fiona’s voice in reaction to Max made Max’s heart roar, made every part of her feel that warmth, made her want.
Slowly, gently, Max pushed Fiona to her bed, and Fiona sat down on the edge, wrapping her arms around Max’s waist and pushing her hands up under Max’s sweater. Max shivered as she pressed Fiona down to the top of the rumpled comforter, feeling the length and swell and curve of Fiona’s body beneath her own as she kissed Fiona again, hotly, fiercely, making Fiona moan in her mouth. It was such a soft, animal sound, and it made Max want more.
Max didn’t want to be tentative, uncertain. She didn’t want to seem that she didn’t know what she was doing. She’d imagined this enough times, after all. She had dreamed of Fiona often enough. Her nervousness began to dissolve as she pushed Fiona down, as she climbed on top of the woman, finding the perfect place between her legs to straddle her, to climb up and over her. She found her balance on her knees, one hand beside Fiona’s left shoulder to keep her up, and then Max kissed her fiercely as her hand wandered down to Fiona’s breast, drawing a hot pattern over the woman as she savored her skin.
But Fiona against her, beneath her, the taste of her, was more lovely than anything Max could have ever imagined. Things intensified when Fiona wrapped her legs around Max, drawing her body fully down on top of Fiona’s. Max was fully clothed, and Fiona only wore her panties, and for half a moment, Max was worried that her belt’s buckle would jab Fiona, so she shifted her hips, and then found that perfect place that her hips were meant to be against Fiona’s. Fiona moaned out against Max’s ear as she arched her body beneath Max as Max pressed her hips down. Max could not believe, in that moment, what the mere sound of Fiona could do to her own body. Strength flooded into her, as well as heat, desire, burning through her as she felt the wetness begin to blossom between her own legs in response to Fiona.
She reached down between them as she captured Fiona’s left breast in her mouth. Her fingers lifted up the band of Fiona’s panties, then pushed down further. Fiona was so wet that Max was unable to control her own moan. So wet.
“You did this, baby,” Fiona whispered, as if knowing exactly what Max was thinking. Fiona’s fingers curled around Max’s wrist, and she lifted her hips up, as if to meet Max. “You make me feel this way,” she whispered into Max’s ear, Fiona’s voice so low and throaty that it caused Max to shiver again as she raised her face to Fiona, her lips meeting Fiona’s mouth with hunger.
Max pressed down gently, at first, at the parting of Fiona’s legs. Her fingers pressed and shifted, drawing a bit of Fiona’s wetness up to the center of Fiona’s pleasure, making Fiona spread her legs a little wider, moan a little louder, breathe a little faster. Max slowly circled her fingers, pressing her mouth against Fiona’s mouth, tasting her neck, tasting and teasing her breasts with her tongue and lips, listening to the sounds that Fiona made as Max touched her.
Max was almost delirious with pleasure herself, only from knowing how she made Fiona feel. She wanted to stay in this moment forever, her hands and mouth and body on and over the woman she’d dreamed of her entire life, who she had never known existed. But as Fiona’s hips began to move rhythmically and more insistently, Max knew that the moment would end.
But now she wanted it to, she wanted Fiona to feel that good because of her, she wanted to draw out of Fiona a final cry that would signal the sound of her release and surrender to Max. She wanted that, and she wanted it fiercely. Fiona made a little cry against her, and the skin beneath Max’s hand began to tremble. Max breathed out as Fiona made a louder cry, and then Fiona was pressing down around Max’s fingers, was shuddering against her, wrapping her arms around Max’s neck and whimpering against her.
“Oh, baby,” Fiona whispered finally, laying back against the comforter and breathing heavily. There was hair in her eyes as she struggled up to one elbow, and she was grinning a little, reaching for Max. Fiona didn’t say anything else. She drew Max to her by wrapping an arm around her neck and tugging gently. Max fell against her, and then somehow, surprisingly, she was down on the bed, and Fiona was rising up on top of her, her beautiful, full mouth grinning a little mischievously.
“I’ve been waiting for this,” Fiona whispered into Max’s ear, her breath hot against Max’s skin, her mouth hot against Max’s own as Fiona captured her with a single kiss.
Fiona pulled the sweater up and over Max’s head in a single, fluid motion, and she fumbled with the button and zipper on Max’s slacks as she tried to half-tug and half-undo the fasteners. Finally, she succeeded in pulling the slacks over Max’s bottom and down as she chuckled. They laughed a little as Max tried to get out of her socks, but then Fiona was back, pressing her down to the bed, her eyes flashing fiercely in the dark as she pinned Max in place with a kiss.
Max moaned against Fiona, tasting her deeply, Fiona’s tongue in her mouth, searching. Fiona’s lips began a trail to Max’s ear, which made Max shiver, and then Fiona’s mouth was on Max’s neck, Fiona’s hands at Max’s breasts, at the swell and curve of Max’s hips, and then…
Max cried out, wrapping her arms around Fiona as Fiona pressed her fingers into Max. It felt so good, this beautiful woman over her, in her, and the heat that burned through Max was almost too much at that moment. She had never felt this much, never felt all of the want burn through her so intensely, concentrating in her breast as Fiona’s mouth tugged at her nipple, her tongue wet and hot and sweet against her.
When Fiona touched her again, it was after a frustrating moment or two of tracing patterns on the skin of Max’s thighs, drawing the wetness up and over her skin as Max shuddered against her. Fiona kept moving down and down, until finally she was kissing, softly, gently, the same skin on Max’s thighs that she’d touched before.
“Is it all right?” asked Fiona, as she knelt between Max’s legs, as she hovered over Max’s hot center.
It was more than all right. It was all Max could ever have dreamed of, and more, and she could do nothing but nod, words impossible for her to form as she arched her neck back again and let out a low, quivering moan as Fiona bent then, beautifully, filled with grace, and kissed Max’s waiting center.
Lights seemed to explode behind Max’s eyes as Fiona reached inside of her, as Fiona’s tongue danced over her opening, over the center of electricity that seemed so concentrated in that one small place in her body, then. Fiona moaned against her, the reverberations of her voice moving through her mouth and tongue and making Max tremble, again. Max bit the back of her hand, trying to quell the animal sounds that were coming from her, but she couldn’t help it. It was too much (it was not enough, and then, oh, God, it was more than enough), it was perfect. Fiona moved against her, inside of her, tasting her, and Max lay in perfect surrender, arching and crying out as Fiona made her feel, in those sweet moments, complete.
A roaring, rushing sensation began to build inside of Max, something she could not control as it built and built. She lay perfectly still, and then her body was taken away from her as the euphoria exploded within her, and her body moved of its own accord, her hips bucking and rising up against Fiona’s mouth, her body trembling and contracting around Fiona’s hand, a deep, guttural groan coming from Max’s lips. She breathed out, utterly spent, as the orgasm wracked through her with deep, brilliant delight, and Fiona touched her until the very last moment that Max could have taken. Finally, when it was over, when pleasure tremors still rolled through Max’s spent form, Fiona rose up, placed a single kiss on Max’s center with a smiling mouth, and then she crawled back up and over Max.
Max wrapped Fiona in trembling arms, holding the woman as tightly to her as Max could manage. “Oh, my God,” was all that she could say, and she repeated it over and over again for a moment in a small voice.
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“I love you,” whispered Fiona then, Fiona who reached up with a gentle, soft hand and touched her palm to Max’s face, who tucked a small strand of hair behind Max’s ear, who placed her face against Max’s shoulder.
Max listened to the sound of Fiona breathing against her. She felt her own heartbeat moving through her, but that was answered by the sensation of Fiona’s heart beating against her, too, a rhythm that she felt as Fiona’s neck settled against her shoulder. Max inhaled the sweet scent of Fiona, that vanilla and spicy floral, merging with the scent of their togetherness. Everything was sensation in that moment, the heat of her skin, the soft scent of her. It was all beautiful. She was beautiful.
It was such a comforting, lovely thing, that moment, that Max closed her eyes, breathed out for a long while, and just listened.
Finally, Fiona began to trace a line down Max’s bare arm, a line that was making Max shiver against her. Max cracked open one eye and looked down into Fiona’s own flashing green ones. Fiona’s smile was wide and warm and welcoming, and she was glancing up at Max again, her head to the side.
When Fiona looked at her like that, Max felt that she could do anything. She felt strength flood through her. This amazing, beautiful woman was looking at her as if she was the only person in the entire world. And in this hushed, quiet winter’s night, maybe they were.
Fiona moved off of Max a little to the side and pillowed her head in one hand as she sat up on one elbow. “Well,” she breathed out, licking her lips with a chuckle. “That was glorious.”
“Yes,” said Max quietly, feeling a blush build in her as she looked up at Fiona, at every line and curve of her. She took in Fiona’s breasts, visible and so gently curved and glorious. She reached out tentatively, tracing a finger over the swell of it, down to Fiona’s nipple. Fiona shuddered under that motion, her eyes going darker as she stared down at Max, one brow up, questioning.
Don't Say Goodbye Page 15
