Page 36 of Out Of Time

Max brought his hand to the back of her neck and gently let his fingers push through the wild tangles of her blond hair. “And the kissing you part?” he asked softly.

“I was waiting to find out, but I’m almost certain you will excel there too.”

Reaching for the light switch, he pulled down the dimmer, keeping his eyes intent on her face, trying like hell not to lose her in the lack of light.

“How’s that?” he asked.

“Purrrrfect,” she said in a low purr, a play on cat puns making a reprise.

“I'm going to kiss you meow,” he warned, a faint boyish smile on his lips.

“Hurry,” she said, closing her eyes. “I feel like I’ve been holding my breath for this moment since I met you.”

And who was he? Who was Max to deny this woman the very air in her lungs?

He pressed his hand against her lower back, drawing her body up against his as he leaned down. His eyes closed tight as he let his lips finally meet hers.

It was a million glass bottles of freshly squeezed lemonade.

It was soft lips pressed against the sweet brim.

It was the lingering sugar coating his tongue with the faint reminder that hers must taste the same.

Max kissed her like he had a million things to say but didn’t know how to articulate them.

He encouraged her mouth to open for him and with gentle strokes against hers, he showed her all the things that had been stuck at the very tip of his tongue in the way he kissed her.

He kissed her as though he was making up for a million words lost in translation.

She responded, her lips a perfect fit against his as his beard tickled the corners of her mouth. Deepening the kiss, she wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him close.

She wanted him in her space.

Shewantedhim.

In his closet.

In his house.

In all his awkward splendor.

He was glad she wanted to keep him close because Max wasn't sure how long he would be able to see the details of her face when she was far away.

Slowly, and with every trained muscle of his body, Max lowered Remi to the plush carpet of his closet, an unlikely place to share their first kisses, but what a story it would be. Max realized he had been craving this very thing. An uncommon kiss, a memorable date, a connection that lasted longer than three periods being counted down by a clock on a jumbotron, and Remi was all those things.

He let the darkness steal his vision as he counted on his other senses to enjoy this moment; the soft hum of her moans against his lips, the heat between their bodies, her fingers gripping his shoulders as she wrapped her legs around his hips allowing all their most intimate parts to align as he pressed against her fully clothed body.

He found optimism with his eyes closed so tight as he trailed his nose down along her neck and was able to make out the very shape of her body this way.

Because even in this moment of pure bliss, Max could not drown out the deafening reminder of what this pitch-black kiss held.

He allowed himself to breathe in the scent of her.

He allowed himself to listen to the sounds she made as he gently nipped at the lobe of her ear.

He allowed himself to taste the salt water that lingered on her skin.

He allowed himself to feel the way his body ached for more of her.

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