She wouldn’t hurt him, of course, just teach him a lesson, one that he would never forget – never underestimate a woman, any woman, and especially not Silken McCullen.
With a sigh that sounded like exasperation, Max rested his palms on the couch and pushed himself up then casually walked across the room toward her. “You just want me to come to you, don’t you?” he asked, shaking his head and giving her an indulgent smile. “Why do you always have to be so contrary?”
Then he was right in front of her, smiling down at her, his dark eyes glinting in the subdued light of the lamp. “Are you going to come sit with me? I’m asking nicely.”
Too nicely. Silken almost frowned. He’d issued a pseudo-threat so why didn’t he act on it? She didn’t want nice, she wanted daring so she could teach him a lesson. But she couldn’t touch him unless he touched her first.
“Would you like me to walk you over?” He lifted his hand, palm upward, waiting for her to put her hand in his.
Dang. That wouldn’t do at all. If he’d only just put a hand on her, somewhere, rest it on her shoulder, maybe, then she could grab his wrist, twist him around and have him in a chokehold that would have him passing out in seconds.
Okay, so maybe she was a show-off just dying for the chance to show him what she could do. He could at least oblige, dang it.
But he didn’t. Somehow, in some way unknown to her, he must have known what she was planning, sensed it, because his hands stayed there, so close, but never touching, waiting for her to yield.
And how could she slam a man who was being polite? She had underestimated Maximillian Davidoff. This man was like none she had ever met.
Her shoulders sagged then she let out a sigh of defeat…and she lifted her hand to rest her palm on his. When she lifted her eyes to his she saw the flash of triumph and the amused twist of his lips.
“There’s more than one way,” he whispered, “to win a battle.”
And then, before she could reply, he’d wrapped his fingers around hers and was walking her back to the sofa.
After settling her in the chair, Max popped the cork and poured a glass of champagne, only one, then held it to her lips. “Sip,” he ordered, and with the glass practically touching her mouth she had no choice. She sipped.
The bubbles burst in her mouth, startling her although she’d expected it, and she blinked. “What…” she said on a gasp, “what are we celebrating?”
Max smiled then he took a sip himself, from her glass…their glass. “Possibilities,” he said, never taking his eyes off hers. Then, still holding her mesmerized with his dark-eyed gaze, he reached his hand behind him to rest the bubbling glass on the table.
His hand now free, he lifted it to put a finger under her chin, ensuring that she could not look away. “Do you know the possibilities of which I speak?” he asked in an uber-formal voice with an amusing attempt at a European accent.
Still staring back at him, she shook her head, but only slightly. She couldn’t move much, not with his finger holding her chin captive. “No,” she whispered then licked her lips, a nervous response to his nearness.
As if he sensed her fear he moved even closer, his lips mere inches from hers. “Us,” he said softly then moved his lips closer still. “Kiss me.”
Silken’s eyes widened and she drew in a surprised breath. She was expecting his kiss, she wanted it, but why didn’t he kiss her? She didn’t want to be the one to make the move.
But he was waiting. And it wasn’t like she hadn’t done this before. So she closed her eyes, pursed her lips and pressed them to his.
It looked like that was all he’d needed, just an indication that she wanted this. As soon as their lips touched, his arms came up to draw her close and then he was kissing her with such passion that she knew he’d been wanting to do this all evening.
And she’d wanted it too, so badly. As they kissed she slid her hands up but this time she did not cling to him helplessly. This time she steadied herself with one hand then boldly slid the other inside the V of his shirt, her hand gliding over the smooth skin of his broad chest.
And then she found it, the flat nipple, which she began to stroke until it grew into a hard nub beneath her fingers.
Max groaned but she did not let up. As his kiss deepened she stepped up her assault on his senses, pinching the nipple, her gentle torture making him gasp against her lips.
But she knew it was a torture so sweet that he would only want more. Pulling her lips away from his, she lowered her head to his chest, loosening button after button as she did so until he was beautifully bare to her gaze.
Then her lips found that suffering nipple. She covered it with the softness of her lips then stroked it with the tip of her tongue, flicking and teasing until Max groaned and lay back against the arm of the sofa, giving her full access to his body.
She accepted his invitation. Tilting with him, she never let go of that nipple, but when he writhed and moaned she gave him some ease and moved her lips over to the other nipple where she administered similar treatment.
“God, Silken, you know how to drive a man crazy.” His voice, soft and hoarse, was music to her ears.
He’d thought he was the one in charge, getting her to sit with him on the sofa, ordering her to kiss him, but now he knew who really carried the big stick.
She released him then moved up his body where she calmly and boldly covered his lips with hers. He took hers like a hungry man, sucking her bottom lip into his mouth then reaching up to capture her head in his hands. Then he was tasting her, devouring her, kissing her till she was the one gasping and clinging to him.
Before she knew what was happening Max wrapped his arms around her and rolled over in the sofa, pinning her beneath him.
For a quick second she almost panicked, feeling so utterly helpless, unable to move her arms or legs. But then he lowered his head to kiss her in that sensitive spot by her collarbone and all thoughts of fighting to regain control dissolved in a pool of breathtaking sensation.
He slid his lips lower still and then he was skimming the tops of her br**sts, feathering her with kisses that made her tremble all over. When his hand slipped down to rest at the top button of her blouse she sighed. And when he paused there she arched toward him, eager for his touch.