The ache inside me, however, did not recede.
I only wanted more.
Turning in his arms, I fought against my weak knees the whole way. I pressed my hands flat to his chest as he leaned into me for more sweet kisses. As we kissed I ran my hands down his chest and stomach to the prize still contained inside his boxers. I pulled him free, stroked his thick length, and moaned into his mouth as I fantasized about how good it was going to feel to take him inside me.
I was about to go to my knees when Max pulled away. He slipped out of my arms and went to his pants which lay discarded on the dark hardwood floor. He rummaged around in his pocket, pulled out a condom, and flashed me a devilish smile. Then, stripping out of his boxers, he tore open the condom wrapper.
“Let me,” I said, holding out my hand for the condom.
Max arched an eyebrow, but only hesitated for a second. He dropped the still wrapped condom into the palm of my hand.
Then I went to my knees.
Max watched with a hungry gaze as I parted my lips, rocked forward on my knees, and swirled my tongue around his meaty head. Slowly, I gently took him into my mouth, swirling my tongue all around his sensitive skin. After sealing my lips and puckering my cheeks, I drew him to the back of my throat, working to get my lips to the base of his thick shaft.
Max growled above me. I held his stare as I pressed deeper and held my tongue against him. First softly, then building, I worked him over, bobbing my head and worshipping his cock as if to thank him for the pleasure I knew he was about to bestow upon me.
My pussy ached and dripped as I sucked, licked and stroked his massive cock, and had he let me I would have kept going until he blew his load in my mouth. But he didn’t let me.
After only minutes of sucking him, he pulled away and told me to put the condom on. I did as I was told and took it from the wrapper and rolled it on. Then he pulled me up to my feet and turned me around on the spot. He walked me forward a few steps and I realized we were in his living room. His black couch was in front of me and he immediately bent me over the armrest on the side, giving my ass a little smack that echoed around the place, along with the giggle that escaped me.
He put one hand in the middle of my back to hold me down as he gripped his shaft with the other. Pressing his thick head against me, he slowly worked his cock at my entrance, stretching me. I moaned and looked back at him over my shoulder, just as he slid his full length inside me.
Everything around us vanished. It was just me and him.
His thrusts were deep and slow. I felt every inch as he worked himself in and out of me.
I bit my own shoulder to stay quiet as he drove himself in even deeper. He must have seen the look in my eye, because he let out a primal growl, reached up, and gathered a fistful of my hair in one hand. He pulled my head back and fucked me hard—just the way I liked it.
The grip he had on my hair forced me to look up at the ceiling. Closing my eyes, I spread my legs further apart so I could reach down and rub my clit. The combination was exquisite. My toes curled against the hardwood and I moaned, pressing my ass back so he could fuck me even deeper.
Then I came.
The orgasm nearly stripped my breath from me. Had it not been so ferocious I would have screamed his name without a thought of the other people living in the building.
Max grabbed my ass with his other hand and then slapped it. I yelped. He fucked me harder. His grip in my hair tightened and the tight pain along my scalp was the perfect complement to the pleasure rolling through my body. I liked it.
No. I loved it.
“Harder,” I managed to say through clenched teeth.
Max obliged. His hips slapped against my ass and I reached down to grip the sofa cushions as another orgasm built up inside me. I bit my tongue in a desperate attempt to stay quiet but failed, and a scream of ecstasy tore from my lungs.
Max groaned behind me. His thrusts grew erratic and less controlled.
“Yes!” I cried.
He pulled my head back further. I moaned and writhed against him as his own orgasm took hold of him and sent him over the edge. His moan mingled with mine, and as he came he bowed his head and pinched my shoulder with his teeth.
When we were both spent he released my hair. Putting his hands on my hips, he turned me around and kissed me—sweetly. I looped my arms over his shoulders and kissed him back.
We had to stop to catch our breath.
“So, what do you say about that Jacuzzi now?” Max asked, playfulness lingering in the corners of his mouth.
“I thought you’d never ask.”
Chapter 29
Max
We didn’t bother putting anything on before tiptoeing out through my sliding patio doors and across the cool stone patio to my hot tub. I slid the lid off as Laura held her arms around herself and danced on the spot to keep warm. Once the lid was off steam rose into the air, swirling and curling in gentle tendrils of sheer white until it disappeared a couple feet into the air.
I took Laura’s hand and guided her up the wooden stairs on the side of the tub, and kept hold of her as she stepped into the water.
“Oh my God that’s nice,” she said, stepping down to the floor of the hot tub and moving to the far corner where she sat down. The water came up to the base of her throat. I didn’t like not being able to see her well, so I turned on the lights inside the tub, which illuminated her body under the water.
Then I got in and sat down across from her.
Laura ran her hands over the surface and breathed in deeply. She rested her head against the back of the tub and closed her eyes. “God, if I had one of these I’d never get out.”
“I hardly ever come in here.”
“What? You’re kidding.” She cracked open one eye to peer at me suspiciously. “Why not?”
I shrugged. The water sloshed gently around my shoulders. “Don’t know. It’s not as enjoyable when you’re alone, I guess.”
“Well, you can call me anytime and I’ll be over for a dip.”
“Good to know.”
“Are there jets?”
“Are there jets,” I scoffed, making fun of her question. I flicked the jets on from the pad behind me that also controlled the lights, and the water bubbled and frothed around us. It was pleasant, but it obstructed my view of her beautiful body beneath the surface. “Of course there are jets.”
Laura giggled and leaned back once more. She let her body float upward and her breasts broke the surface of the water. Perky and full, all I wanted was to go to her and worship her body. She was a masterpiece of lean lines and soft milky skin.
“Stop staring,” she said.
“Sorry.”
She giggled and went to her knees in the middle of the tub. “I’m just messing with you, Max. And since when do you listen to what people tell you to do?”
“I don’t. You’re the exception.”
Her smile was radiant and I liked how it made the corners of her eyes crinkle. She turned away from me, still smiling, and draped her arms over the side of the tub to peer out at the city lights spread out below. “It’s truly magical up here.”
I moved to the edge of the tub and leaned there beside her. She crossed her arms and rested her chin on her wrists. “It’s not bad. I’ve never gotten tired of the view.”
The lights down below glittered in her eyes as Laura stared out toward West Hollywood. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything so beautiful.”
“Me neither,” I said. But I wasn’t talking about the view. I was talking about the pretty girl beside me. The girl who had marched back into my life and grabbed onto my heart with her tiny fist, and was still holding on strong.
She sighed with contentment and turned to look at me. “Do you feel the Christmas spirit yet, Max?”
“What is this ‘spirit’ you speak of?”
She shrugged a shoulder and beads of water trickled down her skin. I wanted to lick all the glistening beads off her flesh. “You know.
That warm feeling you get in your chest. The giddiness and joy, wanting to make others feel happy too. The anticipation that something wonderful is on the horizon. Does any of that sound familiar at all?”
I shook my head.
Laura gave me a crooked smile before turning back to the view. “Well, I suppose not all of us are lucky enough to feel it every year. But, I think one day you’ll feel it, Max. Maybe when you have kids around.”
I laughed, “Kids? Me?”
She nodded. “Christmas is always better when there are kids. Instead of feeling the magic, which you might just not be able to do, you get to create it for someone else.”
“Sounds fun.”
“And tricky.”
I could only imagine how much work it had been for my mother to maintain our belief in Santa Claus for as long as she did. I considered myself to be one of the lucky ones. Some of my friends stopped believing when they were as young as six, and even they couldn’t convince me that Santa was fictional.
I recalled coming home from school one day in tears. Rushing into my mother’s arms, I told her that my friend Daniel told me Santa Claus wasn’t real. He told me his parents were the ones who left the gifts under the tree on Christmas Eve. He saw them do it the year before, and this year he’d found his presents stashed at the back of his mother’s walk-in closet.
Faced with this news, my mother knelt in front of me and wiped my tears away. “Sweet Max. Santa is as real as you believe him to be. If you believe that he will come, trust me, he will come. And he will continue to do so until you decide you no longer want him to.”
At the time her words immediately eased all of my worries and I was able to ignore what Daniel had said. In fact, I pitied him. He stopped believing, and therefore missed out on plenty of Santa filled Christmas Eve nights. I however, continued believing until I was about twelve. That’s when the doubt started creeping in. But doubt was alright, because it allowed for a slow acceptance of truth. I was never bitter about it and I let go when I was ready. So did Catherine.
“Max?”
I looked over at Laura. “Hm?”
“What are you thinking about?”
“My mother, actually.”
Laura tucked her hair behind her ears and turned to face me, away from the glow of the lights below. She sank deeper into the water. “Do you miss her?”
“Every day.”
“What were you remembering?”
I smiled and sank down into the water with her. “I was thinking about how she helped me believe in Christmas. And how important it was to her that Catherine and I held on to the magic for as long as we could.”
Laura put her hand over mine. “I’ve never met anyone who loved Christmas as much as your mom. Her Christmas earring collection used to make me so envious. And all her sweaters and vests—”
“Her sweaters and vests were horrible,” I laughed.
“No they weren’t! They were festive. And bright and fun. Your Mom was the embodiment of Christmas spirit, Max. She felt it in her bones.”
“Yeah. I think you’re right.”
“You’ll feel it too one day.”
I smiled. “Well. I want to feel it now. And I think I have an idea of what will do the trick.” I stood up. The water sloshed around my legs as I climbed out of the hot tub.
“Oh? And just where are you off to?”
I held up a hand as I crossed the patio. “You stay right where you are. I’m going to go fix us a Christmas cocktail.”
Laura whistled. “Nice ass, Max Miller. You’ve still got it!”
My cheeks burned. Damn. I’d never felt flustered in the presence of a woman before. I hurried inside, leaving wet footprints across my floor as I hurried over to the bar in my dining room.
Inspecting my liquor collection with desperation, I clamored for ideas. I needed to throw a festive drink together, but I had literally no clue how to do so.
Ha! At the very back of the cabinet I found a bottle of peppermint liquor. I grabbed it and hurried into the kitchen, where I mixed two ounces in a wine glass and topped it with tonic water. I added a dash of sugar to each and then fished some frozen berries out of my freezer that hadn’t seen the light of day in probably a year. I dropped those in to find myself staring at a rather impressive looking drink.
Of course, I realized then that mint liquor and berries probably didn’t mix well.
But the deed was done and I carried the two wine glasses outside, nearly slipping in the puddles of water I’d left on the floor.
Laura was looking out across the city again when I got back in the water and handed her the drink I’d made. “I think I need to warn you—there’s a good chance this will be terrible.”
Laura smelled it. Her eyebrow arched. “Why does it smell minty?”
“I put mint liquor in it.”
Laura laughed. “Oh. Okay Mr. Creative.”
“It was my attempt at a Christmas drink, alright?”
Laura lifted her glass to mine and we tapped the edges together. “Well, it is definitely beautiful, so even if it’s terrible all is not lost.”
“Well, here’s hoping,” I said.
We both pressed the glasses to our lips and took a sip.
It was God awful. I barely managed to swallow it, and when I did, I nearly burst out laughing because of the look on Laura’s face. She forced herself to swallow it, with her eyes still squeezed tightly shut. Then she opened her mouth and fanned it. “Max! This is—disgusting!”
I couldn’t stop snickering. “I know.”
“We should name it.”
“Name it? Why would we name something so horrible?”
Laura nodded. “Yes. It needs a name that really captures its essence, you know? So when we’re old we’ll have a point of reference when we discuss various events from our past. I know, how does Very Un-Merry Sparkling Shit grab you?”
“I like that. You should get a job in marketing.”
“Okay then, Very Un-Merry Sparkling Shit it is!” she said. And then, in the most baffling move of the day, she took another sip, struggled to swallow it, and covered her mouth as she burst into a fit of giggles. “It’s so bad.”
“Then quit drinking it!”
She shook her head and took another sip, wincing as she swallowed. “I can’t. I’m a glutton for punishment.”
“Woman, give me your damn glass,” I growled, lunging toward her and plucking the glass out of her hands. She laughed hysterically and slid into the seat behind her as I moved between her legs and placed the two glasses on the edge of the tub. She watched me with those dark brown eyes of hers, then reached out to loop her arms over my shoulders, entwining her fingers behind my neck.
“Thank you for dinner tonight. And for this. It’s been lovely. Surprisingly so. Except for the drink, of course.”
I put my hands on her thighs. “Thank you for accepting the invitation. I wasn’t sure you would.”
Laura’s fingers moved up into my hair. “You know,” she whispered, “I’ve never had sex in a hot tub before.”
Gently, I pushed her legs further apart. “We can rectify that little problem right now if you like.”
“Oh, I like,” she nodded, then pulled me down to her, wrapping her legs around my waist. Crushing her lips to mine, we sank into a long kiss. She tasted like mint, berries and tonic water.
Chapter 30
Laura
When I woke up on Sunday morning I was disoriented. It was so quiet. There was no sound of traffic, no neighbors talking or music playing, no sounds of kids outside, nothing. It was just quiet—like that blanketed sound after a heavy snowfall.
I opened my eyes and found myself staring up at a white ceiling. It looked like snow.
Sunlight nearly blinded me and I squinted against the glare shining in through a window on the other side of the room. Max’s room.
Right.
I’d spent the night at Max’s condo. After the hot tub, and the glorious sex we had in it, we’d move
d back inside, where I showed him how to properly mix a Christmas cocktail. His liquor collection was impressive, therefore the drink I made was also impressive, and we drank a few too many. Finally, we stumbled into the bedroom, collapsed on the bed, and made love like two people who hadn’t had sex in ages.
He was insatiable. Ravenous, even. And I was too infatuated by him to want anything besides the sex and the closeness. And the kisses. The kisses were a big part of it. Max had a way of letting me know exactly how he was feeling, just from a kiss.
I turned my head away from the glare of the sun. Max was beside me sound asleep. He was lying on his side facing me, with his arm tucked under his pillow. Half of his face was hidden from view and his breathing was deep and slow.
He was without a doubt the most handsome man I’d ever seen. In person, anyway. I mean, honestly, he had the facial structure of someone who could be in the movies or on the front of a magazine. His strong jaw, sharp angular nose and high cheekbones made for a somewhat severe masculine look. But the warmth of his eyes and the softness of his smile took some of that harshness away. It all worked together and the result was one stunningly handsome man.
I sighed and pulled myself a little closer to him. I could feel the heat of his body under the sheets as my knees bumped into his when I curled up on my side to face him.
Suddenly his green eyes were open.
“Oh,” I breathed. “I’m sorry. Did I wake you up?”
Max offered me a sleepy smile. “Don’t be sorry. It’s a great way to wake up.”
What a sweet talker. My cheeks burned and I propped myself up on my elbows. “Did you have a good sleep?”
“Best I’ve had in weeks.”
“Me too.”
Max rolled onto his back and indulged in a stretch. His back cracked and he yawned, stretching his arms up over his head. The blankets came down exposing his chest and some stomach muscles. Then, when he had cracked all the necessary joints and stretched all his muscles, he rolled back over to face me, draped an arm over my waist, and said, “Can I make you a cup of coffee?”
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