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Times Square(11)

By:Jana Aston


I don't think I'm alone in my fantasies either because when he finishes speaking every member of my group is staring at him. There's a pause where no one says anything and then finally Debby speaks up and reminds Vilma that it's her turn to pick a favorite quote.

Max takes my hand during the remainder of the meeting and slowly rubs circles into my skin with his thumb. It's just my hand but it doesn't feel like it. It feels like he's caressing me everywhere. It feels like he's running his fingertips down my arm and up the inside of my thigh. If feels like my entire body is humming with his touch.

That's what it feels like.

Or I just have a really overactive sexual imagination.

Either way, when the meeting ends I stand up so fast my eReader hits the floor and I have to swoop down and pick it up. I shove it into my bag and then turn to Max.

"Are you ready?"

"Sure." He smiles at me and shakes his head a little as though he's surprised by my antsy demeanor. "I'm ready."





Chapter Six


 "So, did you want to grab dinner?" Max asks once we're outside on the sidewalk.

"No." I might be looking at him like he's an idiot because who in the hell wants to eat right now?

"Okay." He shrugs. "I'll walk you home."

What?

"No, I'll walk you home," I snap back.

"You'll walk me home?" Max grins, dimples in full force. His eyes spark in amusement at my outburst. "How progressive of you."

"Yeah, I'm sort of revolutionary," I agree.

"Will you initiate the goodnight kiss as well?"

"Maybe." I shrug. "If you're lucky." I glance down the street, anxious to get moving. I start to ask him which way his place is but I don't get more than 'which' out of my mouth before his lips are on mine.

He's holding my face in both of his hands and brushing his lips gently over mine, a whisper of a touch a hundred times more skilled in its softness than I could have anticipated. "I am lucky," he murmurs, "but I also enjoy the occasional customs like flowers and first kisses. If that's okay with you."

"Yeah," I mumble because he's kissing me again. "That's okay." It's way more than okay.

"Good." He tilts his forehead down to mine as he runs his hands down my upper arms. "Then let's go." He grabs my left hand and we begin walking south on Seventh, but as soon as we cross Eighteenth he hails a cab and holds the door for me before sliding in beside me. He gives the driver an address on Bleecker Street and I laugh.

"That's a mile from here," I point out. It's silly to take a cab a mile.

"I know," he replies with a wink. There's no more talking after that. There's no more talking because from that point on we're making out like teenagers in the back seat of a car. At one point Max lifts his hips and I think we're progressing to dry-humping but then I realize the cab has stopped and he's just trying to get cash from his wallet.

"You're walking me to the door, right?" he asks, kissing me again as he reaches over to push the cab door open. He's smiling as he asks. It's too dark and he's too close for me to see it, but I can feel his lips curve against my cheek. His skin is warm and rougher than my own and hell, yes, I'm walking him to the door.

"Of course I am. I don't just drop my dates at the door and speed off. I need to make sure you get inside safely." I shove him lightly with my hands as I speak because he's the one sitting on the sidewalk side of the cab and I'm anxious to get moving. Hello, can I be any more obvious?

Max steps onto the pavement and immediately takes my hand as I exit the cab, slamming the door behind me. It's a bit quieter on this street. Quieter for New York anyhow. There's a large residential building behind us and smaller three-story buildings, each made up of different shades of brick, directly across the street. Storefronts line the ground level of the buildings. It's quintessential New York City. Charming with a small-neighborhood feel. I think we're headed into the building behind us, but as the cab pulls away and the street clears Max walks me across and up to a door between a cosmetics store and a trendy women's clothing store.

As he inserts a key into the lock I place my hand on his arm, stopping him. "Wait, do you have roommates?"

His face falls and he shakes his head. "Shit, no, I'm sorry."

"You're sorry? Why?"

"I know how kinky you are." He sighs and leans his back against the door. "Did you want me to call a friend?"

"Shut up and open the door."

He grins and shoves open the door, walking backward into the stairwell and pulling me in after him. We're all over each other before the door has closed completely. I've abandoned my purse and the flowers and gotten his shirt half unbuttoned by the third step. His hand is under my dress by the sixth.