Author Name: Liz
Email: [email protected]
Rating: R
Disclaimer: I don't own anything
Summary: Future fic. The aliens never came to Roswell, and Liz
was never shot.
Category: M/L
Wrong Turns (Chapter 7)
The straw fell from her lips and dropped against the empty bottom of the plastic cup. "Done."
He laughed. "Three? In an hour? And you won't be..wired?"
She grinned. "Nope."
He scooted closer to her. She didn't quite remember how it was
that she'd ended up on his side of
the booth. Or his lap, for that matter. Well, practically.
Something about her sweater…
His hand played on her thigh. Her neck tingled. "I'd hate to see you with the hard stuff."
Her hand was on his neck, playing with the soft hair at the nape. "Yeah, me too."
He nuzzled her cheek. She could feel the slightest hint of stubble on his chin, scratching her lightly. More tingling. She found herself looking at the young man who had been their waiter, stacking chairs on a tabletop. It reminded her of the old days, working at the Crashdown. A soft smile played at her lips. The boy looked at her, hunger in his eyes. She winked at him. Max's rumbling laugh tickled her ear. "Stop playing around with his head."
"Mm..but it's so easy."
"I can see how it would be." Max's hot breath on her
neck, then his lips. They were incredibly
soft. "I think they're closing."
"Oh."
"Wanna get out of here?" He didn't move from his spot.
"Sure." She tried to keep track of her thoughts as he nibbled at her skin. "Where we going?"
"My place," he murmured.
"Okay."
Gently pushing him away, she smiled. "We better go."
His hair was messed up. "Yeah."
She slid out, leaning across to grab her purse. He rested his hand on her back, sliding it down and cupping her ass for a moment before moving it back up. She felt more than tingles. They walked out together, and he grabbed her hand. "Your car?"
"Maria brought me."
"Right." Led her to his car, opened the door for
her.
The door opened into the darkness of the house, and he stepped inside, easily finding the switch. Dim light filled the room, and she looked around appreciatively. It was gorgeous. Spacious rooms, expensive furniture, tasteful art. Definitely high class. "Nice."
He threw his keys down on the small table by the door, took her purse and placed it down too.
"Thanks." She walked inside more, into the living room, running her hand softly along the leather of the couch. "Where's your bedroom?" She turned and checked his face for surprise. There was none.
"Down the hall, to the right."
"'Kay."
She disappeared down the hallway, veering off into the first door she came to.
"That's not…" he called.
"I know."
The door closed behind her, and he heard it lock. He thought
that he could understand why she'd want a bathroom after all
those frappucinos.
He stood there for a moment, surveying the hallway that he'd
walked down a million times before, wondering why it suddenly
looked so different. So much better.
His skin still tingled, crackled with electricity. His lips burned. And the rest of him… It was almost scary, the things that this woman was doing to him. Not that he minded. Planning had always been his way of life. Until now. Things just kept coming at him, flying torwards him so quickly that there was only a split second left to make each decision.
At that moment, he felt sure that he'd made the right ones. After all, he had possibly the most beautiful woman on earth in his house. In his bathroom. And her next stop was his bedroom. He padded down the hallway, gaze lingering on the bathroom door as he passed. No sounds were coming out, and he wondered if she was beginning to have doubts. He hoped to hell not.
The day came to mind again. The day he'd broken all of his
rules. When he'd used his powers, healed someone, fallen in love.
She had come into that hospital, heartbroken and pleading, and
left
with his heart. He'd risked everything for someone he barely
knew. That had to mean something. That had to mean that what he
was doing tonight was right.
The little Isabel voice in his head was telling him no. He told
her to shut the hell up. Opening his bedroom door, he was
relieved to see that it was neat. The bed was made. Clean sheets.
Flicked on the light, threw some dirty clothes into the corner.
Slicked back his hair and took a deep breath. He couldn't take
his eyes off of the bed.
There was a noise from the hallway, and he heard her soft
footsteps approaching the room. He didn't turn around even when
he felt her, standing behind him in the doorway. She didn't say
anything as she walked up to him, around him. Her eyes did not
meet his, but rested on his chest, firm and toned beneath the
sweater he wore. Finally, they drifted up to his. The passion in
her eyes, the fire that burned him from where she stood took his
breath away.
He stared at her, this beautiful woman in front of him. He wanted
nothing more than to kiss her. He ached for her. Could he deny
himself the pleasure of his lips on hers? The question was
answered when she took the first step.
Leaning forward with her face, she placed her lips on his. It
was like a shockwave from a really large explosion.
He welcomed her kiss, knowing this shouldn't be happeneing, and
not caring. He found his way into her mouth, caressing her tongue
with his. She was a Goddess. He wanted her, wanted her with so
much force it scared him.
Liz was enjoying him. A lot. She'd been meaning to kiss him since
the first time she saw him, standing there in the waiting room.
She slid one hand up his chest, reaching for his cheek. She
cupped his cheek, and brought him even closer.
Pulling back from their kiss, he looked at her questioningly. She
knew what he asked for, she nodded her approval. Liz raised her
arms so Max could remove her shirt. He did it slowly,
gliding over her bare skin as much as possible. The sight of her
took his breath away. She was
Liz's breath caught in her throat. His touch was so soft, so
gentle.
Max took his time exploring her. He wanted to savor every moment.
Liz was the impatient one, it seemed. It was she who removed his
shirt, and went straight for the zipper on his pants. He was
amused by her urgency. Guiding her hand with his, he let her
release him from the restraining material.
Max couldn't wait any longer. He removed the remainder of their
clothing, and had her lie down next to him.
They moved together, flesh against flesh. She reveled at the feel
of his naked form, melded against her. When she could take it no
longer, she cried out.
The end had been explosive, driving them both mad. They lay
together for a moment, neither of them moving. They had no desire
to break the contact, the connection. He closed his eyes, and
breathed in. The scent of her filled him, wonderful and sweet.
He exhaled the breath he'd been holding for years now. His hot breath tickled her face, and the smiled to herself as her eyes drifted shut and she fell asleep.