Saturday, September 21, 2013

Chapter 17: Lucky


I walk into the Mud Puddle, my head pulsing more than it should after a late night. Sure I had my fair share of alcohol, especially when you count  those shots after a certain feisty raven haired vixen left, but it wasn’t the liquor, it was the girl.

After Maggie left, I peeled off the puck bunny that had attached herself to me and headed back to the VIP section to sit at the table alone.  Had I meant what I said to Maggie, yes, unfortunately. Was I sorry that it was so harsh and insulting in such a public place, yes. But I wasn’t the only one who had flung harsh words. She had cut deeply into my skin last night… but were her words true? Yes again.

I order a cappuccino with an extra shot of espresso, hoping that it might make up for the lack of Bailey’s that I want to throw into it. I order it to go, wanting to just leave and go back to my apartment, but as I’m passing I hear a silky voice murmur my name.

I turn around to see the source of my headache staring at me, sitting at a table with a dark green coffee mug in hand, a small plate next to it that only held crumbs.  Her hair is down, just like I like it, those raven waves complimented her plentiful personality.  She was in that ratty navy Penn State hoodie, torn jeans and black converse. Her green eyes were almost as green as the mug in her hand, a deep forest green instead of a lively clover, and hidden behind black-rimmed glasses.

I sigh, walking over to the table and sitting in the seat across from her. She looks tired, not her usual vibrant self.

“Hey,” I murmur quietly, not knowing what I should say.

“Hey,” she breathes back, letting the air between us be thick and depressing, just like the cold dreariness outside.

“Max,” She starts, looking down at her hands, “I’m really sorry about last night. I didn’t mean what I said.”

I snort quietly, “Yeah you did.”

She smirks sadly, “You’re right, I did. But I didn’t mean to be so harsh. What and who you do is your business, it’s pretty hypocritical to yell at you to get off my back and then hop on yours.”

I smirk, “Dirty,” I reply, giving her a devilish grin.

She giggles quietly; I had successfully broken the ice. And I received an apology from Maggie Sutherland, something that was almost as rare as a unicorn.

“I thought apologizing was a sign of weakness,” I smirk at her, remembering her telling me one of her father’s rules when I had accidently hit a puck into her shin.

“Yeah well…” she says looking down at her coffee, “You know me, hockey stars have always been my weakness.”

I smile at the joke, knowing that fame had nothing to do with it; however, her eyes told me that maybe, just maybe, I was her weakness.

“Well since we’re apologizing, I’m sorry too, my remarks were inappropriate,” I nod, “the slut however, made her way over on her own.”

The last comment earns me a hearty laugh that is music to my ears.

“Ah yes, little miss puck slut was definitely lucky last night,” Maggie laughs, tracing her finger around the edge of her mug.

“Not with me she wasn’t,” I point out, taking a gulp of my cappuccino.

“I meant she’s lucky her nose didn’t end up crooked,” Maggie grins at me wickedly.

“Oh right,” I laugh remembering Tanger literally pulling Maggie away from landing the punch, “She was damn lucky that you didn’t land that punch. Best right hook I think I’ve ever seen.”

“It’s for the best, I guess,” Maggie shrugs, “Crosby would have skinned me for sending someone to the hospital on his watch.”

“Yes, yes he would have,” I chuckle.

“So, we’re cool?” she asks, cautiously.

“Yeah Maggs, no harm, no foul,” I smile, my hand closing over her small hand.

She smiles at me, those green eyes looking grateful as she surprises me by not pulling her hand away.

“Well, I should go,” she says looking down at her watch.

I nod as she gets up, that gold belt buckle catching my attention again as she pulls on a thick fleece coat.

“Hey, I’m off tonight and the Blackhawks play. Wanna watch the game?” I ask as she heads to the door.

“Can’t,” she says fixing her collar, “I have plans tonight.”

I just roll my eyes at her, “Reading a book on a Friday night is not a plan.”

“I’m not reading a book tonight,” she huffs, her hand coming to her hip in attitude.

“Mmmhmmm,” I hum doubtfully, “Later Maggs.”

“Maybe next time Talbot, beer is on me,” she throws walking out the door.

“I want more than one this time!” I call after her.

I’d break up her little party tonight. No single, beautiful girl in her twenties should be alone on a Friday night, and that look from across the table as I touched her hand, told me I could get lucky staying with her tonight.

Maggie’s POV
I drag the mascara wand through my lashes again as I hear a rhythmic knocking on my door. I begin to panic, he’s early. But then the knocking comes again, and I pay more attention to the rhythm. What the hell is HE doing here?

I go in my robe to answer the door. I sigh as I look through the peephole and confirm who it is on the other side.

“What are you doing here?” I ask annoyed, as I watch as his grin drops.

“I told you I’d be here, to watch the Blackhawks game with you,” he says with a slightly annoyed tone in his voice.

“And I told you that I was busy,” I say, glancing over at the clock. He would be here in 10 minutes and I wasn’t even dressed yet. I groan and walk into my bedroom to pick my clothes out.

“Maggie, spending a night at home in your bathrobe listening to music isn’t busy,” I hear him say with a chuckle.

“I’m not!” I shout back. Luckily I had picked what I was wearing before I took my shower.

I wiggle into my dark straight leg jeans and slip the deep violet silk tank over my head. The mock halter tank tied around my neck and left the back open.  I look over to the clock, as I hear the TV turn on. Max was turning on the game. I only had 5 minutes; my hair was just going to have to be left down. I couldn’t do anything decent with it in so short of time. I look in the mirror one last time, toping my look off with some red lipstick. I slip on the only heels I own, red peep toe pumps, and grab my purse before turning off the light to my room and heading out into the living room. Max was stretched out on the couch his hands behind his head, making his biceps looking very tempting and the Talbot “T” … wow, did I need this date.

Max’s POV

I put on the game and sprawl out on the couch, waiting as Maggs came back from her bedroom.

“Max, what are you still doing here?” I hear her ask.

“Watching the game?” I say glancing up at her and having to do a double take. She looks gorgeous.

Her face was accentuated with makeup that I had hardly ever seen her wear. Lashes longer and thicker than normal, making her already big green eyes look even bigger. But it was the red lips stick on that sassy mouth that made me want to push her up against the wall and ruin the perfectly painted look. As if that wasn’t enough, she had a flowy dark purple top on, that’s silkiness begged to be touched, and showed off her strong tanned shoulders and dainty collarbone. It looked as though her jeans were painted on her legs, accentuating mouth-watering curves. She had on what the guys and I called “fuck me” shoes. Red pumps that made her legs look a mile long and would have any guy thinking about fucking her with only those shoes on, I know I was. My muscles twitched, my mind was the only thing keeping me from not throwing her over my shoulder and taking her back into that bedroom to take off everything she had just put on. Fuck she was gorgeous.

“Max, I told you I have plans…” her sultry voice says, pulling me eyes up from her body to that fiery red mouth.

“What kind of plans?” I ask slowly, partially dreading the answer.

“Max, it’s none of your…”

“What kind of plans Maggie?” I ask darkly.

“A date. Ok. I have a date, and he should be here any minute… so...”

Suddenly there is a knock on the door.

“Fuck that’s him,” she says running a hand through her hair, “Be Nice!” she says pointing a finger at me as she goes to open the door. I just roll my eyes in response, like hell I was.

She opens the door, to reveal a very tall lean muscled man on the other side holding a bouquet of deep violet irises and a smirk on his face.

Maggie’s POV

“Hey, Jason,” I smile, holding open the door, “I’m almost ready come on in.”

“ Hi Maggie, these are for you,” he smiles, handing me the bouquet.

“Thank you! They’re gorgeous,” I gush, marveling at their swirling petals, “Let me just put them in water.”

I hear a man clear his voice from the living room as an obvious reminder, as I grab a vase from the cabinet.

“Oh, yeah. Max this is Jason, Jason this is Max. Max was JUST leaving, right?” I say glaring at the hockey player from across the kitchen.

“Yeah, I just wanted to see if Maggie was up for a hockey game,” he said smirking at me, “But I can see she’s got other plans.”

“You’re a sports player right? Soccer was it?” Jason asks.

“Hockey actually…” Max mutters, obviously slightly shocked that Jason doesn’t know who he is. It takes all I have to not laugh.

“Oh that’s right, I’ve seen the posters around the city, can’t say I’m a hockey fan, I’m afraid. Never quite peaked my interest, unfortunately,” Jason says.

“It’s still a growing sport here in America,” Max replies slowly, “Maybe Maggie can teach the game to you. So what is it you do Jason?”

I roll my eyes, smooth transition Talbot.

“I’m a History Professor at Pitt, just moved here from Maine after finishing my dissertation last year.”

I can’t help but shake my head. The two men standing next to each other were like night and day.  Jason was a history professor specializing in Ancient Rome, he and I had met on one of my recent trips to the museum. I know that he was born in Missouri, he spent 2 years studying in Germany, and he loved history. He definitely looked and dressed like a professor too, but one of those hot professors that every girls secretly has a fantasy about. He was 6’4’’ and all lean muscle. His intelligent blue eyes stood out, even behind his dark rimmed glasses and he had a killer smirk with a deep voice. His dirty blond hair was well kept, but he didn’t over do the gel like some guys. His long legs were clad in dark jeans, and he wore a sweater with a suit jacket over top.

And then there was Max, tonight’s attire was beat up jeans and Penguin’s hoodie with his number on the shoulder. Granted, he was usually pretty dapper in his attire, but watching a hockey game with an old friend did not warrant a fine wardrobe choice. He was build more thickly than Jason. Muscles that were actually used to make a living, a body that was meant to be used instead of a trip to the gym with some light weights a few days a week. My entire up bringing was centered around such powerful bodies, but my intellectual career, was generally centered around men like Jason. Brilliant men, with minds that fed on history and books, that were good in verbal sparing matches and recounting tails of old in ways that would make some girls swoon… other’s had a knack for putting anyone to sleep. As much as I loved going on dates with someone like Jason, it kept my mind sharp, sometimes it seemed more fitting for a night with a beer and a pizza, watching a game on the couch.

“I see,” I hear Max’s accent say darkly, pulling me from my thoughts. His eyes were a stormy dark grey at the moment, piercing right into me.

“Well we should be going if we want to make our reservation,” Jason says, snapping me out of the staring contest I was engaged in with Max.

“Right, we should,” I nod, grabbing my bomber jacket from the coat rack… maybe not a fancy coat, but honestly I didn’t really have anything better, “Max…”

“Don’t worry Maggs, I’ll lock up,” he throws out, walking away from me to plop down on the couch. I can feel my temper rise, he sure knew how to get under my skin.

“Fine,” I bite, “I’ll see you later.”

****

I walk back through my front door with sigh. Jason and I had parted ways after the movie, he lived closer to the theater, but I told him I had to be up early for work and would take a cab home. We both knew it was me politely ending the date, but after a night of dinner and a play, I had found that although the history professor was interesting, there was no spark. Not even a little one. And it sure didn’t help that my mind kept wandering back to that couch, thinking about how I could’ve been having a better time watching the hockey game with a beer, instead of the fancy French restaurant drinking white whine that Jason chose… I hated white wine.  I throw my coat on the coat rack and pull off my high heels, my feet sighing with relief.

“Have a good night?” I hear a deep voice ask.

I whip around to see Max still on my couch, looking very pissed off. Was he waiting here all night?

“It’s 11:30, what are you doing here?” I ask, walking over to the couch and sinking down in it’s comforting cushions, much better.

“You didn’t answer my question, did you have a good night?”

I look at him confused, “Yeah, we had fun. A nice dinner.”

“Seriously?! He doesn’t seem like the fun type.”

“Jason is fun, maybe not go to the arcade kind of fun…”

“So he’s boring.”

“No! He’s very interesting…” I begin, my temper starting to rise.

“He’s no good for you,” Max says getting off the couch and heading to the door.

“Oh yeah, then who is? Huh? I can’t see anyone, no one is good enough? You told me just yesterday that I was too picky!” I say, leaping to my feet, so I had a not so awesome date, he didn’t have to know that.

He curses under his breath.

“I need to be satisfied just like you do Talbot. Why are you so against that?!” I yell, “You’re the one who is always taking girls home, it’s so hypocritical.”

He mumbles again.

“STOP mumbling!”

“I said, I don’t think he could satisfy you,” he growls grabbing his coat.

“How the fuck would you know?!”

He throws his coat back down on the floor, defiantly standing in front of me.

“You don’t know anything about my sex life,” I spit out.

“Oh believe me Maggie, I know more than you give me credit for,” he growls taking a step closer.

“Bullshi…”I begin to shout when his mouth is suddenly hot against mine. The sparks behind the kiss are almost too much to bear, but when his hands come roughly up to my neck to pull me more against him, I give in. Give into the need to feel him that I had been suppressing for so long.  My hands come up gripping onto his biceps, holding me up from the puddle I was melting into. This was it, he opened the can of worms, and there was no going back now.

I break away breathlessly, both of us breathing heavily, his hand still tangled in my hair. I look up, connecting my eyes with his stormy grays that seemed to swirl with lust and passion, daring me to deny him again.

“Then show me,” I quip quickly, before my mind can analyze the situation and convince me to stop.

That earns me an almost feral grin from him, as he pulls me close to him again.

“With pleasure,” he growls before connecting our mouths with an intense heat.

My hands come up to his shoulders as I kiss him back with the same ferocity, before snaking back down his torso and under his shirt, feeling the sculpted power beneath. I break the kiss to sweep it over his head and he works on my halter-top. Before I can think his mouth is on that spot, right where my eagle feathers are, kissing and nipping the area. I groan in pleasure, my head falling back as my nails dig into his solid shoulders. My temperature was rising by the second and with his mouth on my weak spot, I was completely melting into him. God why hadn’t we done this sooner?

“Stand still,” he commands breathlessly, his fingers quickly working on my clothes.

I do as I’m told for once, my body humming with excitement. He frees me of my top and it falls to the ground to reveal my breasts to him. But he doesn’t stop to admire yet, instead he goes right for the button of my jeans, almost tearing it off before roughly pushing my jeans to join my shirt on the floor, leaving me in just a red lace thong.

“Just as I thought” he whispers, eyes dragging up my body before connecting with mine, a stormy lusty gray. The look he gave me was enough to make my panties soaked, “all female under those clothes.”

“Max…” I breath out, I needed him. There was no turning back now, my consciousness too clouded by lust and desire to turn back now.

His eyes connect with mine again, before he takes the last few steps toward me. His mouth comes to mine, slowing from the instant burn to a slow flame, savoring the moment like he had been waiting days for a drink of water. I slip my tongue into his mouth, pressing myself into him, my breasts brushing his thick chest and my hands exploring the hard plains of his torso. In turn, his hands start high, tracing down the curves of my waist onto the curve of my ass that he cups in his hand pushing me further into him. I can feel his jeans bulge against me and he groans at the pressure.

“Bedroom,” I breakaway panting, as his mouth finds my neck again.

He says nothing in response, instead lifting me up to wrap my legs around his waist, his lips never leaving my skin.

We make it to the doorframe before he leans me against it, his mouth coming to my perky nipples. I gasp as his tongue flicks over one before he takes the whole thing in his mouth, sucking hard. He bites down gently, and I arch my back against the wooden frame, my hands on his shoulder feeling the muscles tense beneath. He does it again and earns a loud moan, one of my hands snaking into his hair to press him into me.

One of his hands on my hip wanders past the red lace and into my juicy core. I had been hot and wet since I heard his deep voice when I walked in. He slips a finger in, groaning at how wet he finds me. He slips another finger to join it, his fingers fucking me against the doorframe. I’m trying desperately to hold onto him, my legs still wrapped tightly around him holding me up, but now they were beginning to shake from pleasure. His thumb brushes my clit, making my hips buck against him.

“Fuck,” I groan, my head falling back against the door jam as pleasure shoots through my body.

His fingers twist in me and I can hear him panting against my neck.

“Max,” I breathe, “Bed.”

He twirls me from the doorway quickly, his fingers coming out with a pop and I hiss at the lack of pleasure. He puts me on the bed more gently than I though he would and just looks down at me. His hair was a mess, his lips swollen, and his torso made me catch my breath as I am finally able to look at the thick muscles that were just holding me up. He breaks his gaze from me to undo his belt and unbutton his jeans, slowing and carefully pulling them down. I swallow as I watch, my eyes taking in his black boxer briefs and thick hockey legs. The air was thick as I pull my gaze up to his again. We were doing this, and now that we were, it seemed so stupid that I had been fighting it all this time. It had all been inevitable that we would end up here someday, all that hot tension between us since high school.

I hook my calves behind his knees, making them buckle so he will fall on the bed. He catches himself from crashing into me, powerful arms held him up to hover above me, the air thick as my hand felt it’s way down his side, feeling the hard muscles that were tightly packed on his ribs, down the flat plain of his abs and to the waist band of his boxer briefs. My hand dips into the waistband.

“Maggie,” he breathes, but before he can say anything my hand finds his thick hot member.
I encircle it and giving attention to the tip before going back down the shaft. Whatever he says just turns into a groan, his head falling down to my collar bone in pleasure. He retaliates my biting my neck, making me squirm and his fingers come down to find me still dripping wet. He brushes my hand away, pulling me up onto the bed, my head resting on the pillows as he strips off his briefs. He readies the tip of his erection at my entrance and I squirm against him, wanting to take him in.

“My, my but someone is awful impatient,” he grins.

“Shut up and ah…” I gasp as he pushes into fully, stretching me out in a moment of painful pleasure

“Fuck,” he groans against my neck.

He begins to move above me, driving deeper into me. I moan as he continues, both of us breathing hard. I hook my legs around him, allowing him to get deeper.

“Faster,” I moan, soon becoming impatient, “Harder Max, I can take it.”

He quickens his pace, breathing harder as he slips in and out of me.

“Oh, God yes,” I moan, my hips thrusting in time with his driving him deeper and deeper, soon enough his thighs are against my ass as he was as far as he could get. That is until he stops, pulling one of my legs up and over his shoulder, driving into me even deeper than before. I moan loud enough that I’m pretty sure the neighbors next door know exactly what’s going on in my apartment. Before driving into me again, his mouth comes to mine, catching the next sound to come out as he brushes my gspot.

“Jesus Christ,” I moan, just before my dam breaks. All that built up sexual tension I had been carrying since bumping into him at The Pig and Fiddle comes rushing out. I scream, my nails digging into his shoulders as my back arches and my body stiffens at the feeling, my toes curling as I cling to him.

Just before I’m finished he comes with a roar against my neck, driving me deep into the mattress as he climaxes, and then collapsing on top of me. Sticky, sweaty, and satisfied.

“Fuck,” I whisper, still panting as he rolls off of me and onto the other side of the bed. What the hell did we just do?

Wednesday, July 10, 2013

Chapter 16: Rodeo


Max’s POV

“Jesus…Would you please…” I sputter at her while trying to focus on the road in front of me through the sleeve of her hockey jersey, “I would like to get to Diesel alive if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t really understand why you’re asking Jesus, but if you’re talking about me changing, you can shut it,” she growls back, as I see her pull something deep blue over head. I whip around just in time to see her pulling her t-shirt down over her belly button… damn.

“So going out in a t-shirt, eh? Trying the simple approach again, I see,” I chuckle, knowing that it would probably work, even though all the other girls would be wearing almost no top.

“Who said it was simple?” she purrs, making me look over into dark clover eyes. What was so interesting about a royal blue shirt?

I park the car and run around to the side of the car to let her… but she was already out of the car. She grins at me and sticks her tongue out, with a coat on so I can’t see the shirt.

“Can’t you just let me be a gentleman?” I sigh, my shoulders slumping for effect.

“Nope,” she grins before making her way to the entrance.

Per usual we are let into the VIP lounge, where most of my teammates already have a beer in their hands. We come to the table where she shrugs out of her coat in front of me.

“I’m still not seeing anything interesting about a blue t-shirt,” I whisper to her, which is much more like a normal voice with the noise of the place.

All I get is a sexy siren smile in return. Her hair was up in a bun today, instead of the raven curls having a mind of their own; however, one rebel did hang down by her cheek in defiance. As much as the bun showed of the beauty of her face, her high cheekbones, freckled nose, and bright emerald eyes, I ached to pull her dark curls out of confinement, feeling them swirl in my hands as I kissed her with all I had.

“I believe I owe you a beer, Superstar,” she calls to me over the bouncing bass of the music, “I’ll be right back.”

She turns from the table and as I watch her go, I quickly inhale at the sight as the blood to my brain goes straight to my crotch. Her t-shirt was almost completely open in the back, exposing her tan torso. Anyone could clearly see the black writing starting at the nape of her neck, scrolling the length of her spine, and ending somewhere that was covered up. Only a small gold chain held the two ends together in the middle, along with the intact inch of fabric at the very bottom, keeping the shirt from slipping over her toned shoulders. I could just make out two of the words, Morocco and Antarctica, before she is out of view.

“Christ, she’s trying to kill me,” I groan, my hands coming up through my hair.

“You’re going to have to keep a close watch on her tonight, Talbot. Otherwise she’s going to be flocked by other guys,” Sid says coming over and putting a hand on my shoulder in concern. Even he couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from the bronzed beauty.

Soon enough, she’s making her way back through the crowd, turning heads as she goes.

“Alright Talbot,” she smiles, setting down a beer in front of me and sitting on the stool beside my own so she can look out into the crowd, “Who’s looking good tonight?”

“You.” I reply simply and honestly.

She turns her head to me, and I swear I see her throw me a shy smile, but as soon as it appears, it’s gone and she gives me a sarcastic grin.

“I meant out there,” she chuckles, pointing her beer to the crowd of people dancing to the beat.

I look in the direction of her bottleneck, not seeing anything that compares to the beauty next to me.

“Depends on what you’re looking for,” I reply in contemplation, “There’s a hot blonde drinking a margarita by the bar.”

“Meh, I heard her ask for an extra shot of tequila in that. Either she just broke up with someone or she needs liquid courage,” she shakes her head before taking a draw of her beer, “Plus, I’m looking for the opposite sex.”

“I see nothing wrong with either of those options,” I reply cheekily, receiving an eye roll in return.

“See you need to think before you pounce,” Maggie sighs, “If she just broke up, she’ll turn into a sobbing mess in the next 20 minutes… if it’s the later, you’ll be making a stop on the side of the road for her to vomit said courage on your way home.”

“You know, the people reading thing gets annoying sometimes,” I huff, now finding the blonde not as attractive with the picture of her puking on the leather of my car seat.

“You’re welcome,” she smiles, “Now, she is a little better.”

I follow her eyes over a petite brunette, with blue eyes and long hair curled into perfect waves. She has on a purple halter-top and dressy shorts, with black pumps to top it all off. My brow scrunches as I try to place her. She seems familiar… oh shit.

“She is obviously trying to take someone home tonight with that outfit,” Maggie continues, clueless to the mild freak out I’m having over a past one night stand so close to the girl who I was trying to forget during said one night stand. “She’s drinking a vodka and cranberry juice, which means she’s trying to get a buzz, but not lose her shit. Classy, but you could probably still take her to a hockey game and she’d enjoy it.”

Fuck, what was her name again… I should stop looking I could attract her attention, I think just as her eyes meet mine and flash in recognition. Too late. Soon enough she begins to walk over.

“And apparently she is all about scruffy French men,” Maggie mumbles, is that annoyance I hear in her voice?

“Hi, Max, I thought you might be here today,” the other girls purrs, putting her hand on my chest as she leans into me.

I gulp, looking over quickly at Maggie, who has her eyebrow raised in suspicion.

“Hey…” I begin, dammit what was her name?!

“Hi, I’m Maggie!” Maggie pipes up sticking out her hand, saving my ass.

“Maddie,” the other replies, shaking her hand although her smile isn’t quite as bright.

Oh that’s right!

“Maddie and I met a week ago here,” I explain to Maggie, making Maddie beam.

“Ah huh,” Maggie frowns at me.

“Are you here with one of Max’s friends?” Maddie says turning to Maggie.

“No, I’m a friend of Max’s, we go way back to high school,” Maggie replies. Is that bitterness in her voice?

“Oh that’s nice,” Maddie says politely, “Are those tattoos real?”

“No, temporary,” Maggie says in sarcastic sweetness, “Just thought I they would be fun.”

“Do you always put on temporary tattoos when you go out?” the girl replies, cocking her head to one side in confusion. Maggie looks over at me in exaggerated shock, as if to say, ‘You’re kidding right?’

“Maggie was kidding,” I reply, giving Maggie a look, “She’s a little sarcastic.”

“Oh, haha,” Maddie giggles, “That one completely flew over my head.”

“You’re kidding!” Maggie throws in using a fake nice voice, before rolling her eyes and taking a swig of her Black and Tan.  I look at her pointedly, trying to convey the “be nice” words I can’t verbalize.

“So what do you say we get you warmed up, Maxime,” Maddie says pulling my hand to join her on the dance floor.

I follow her looking back at Maggie, who is fake vomiting. Brat.

Maggie’s POV

He has to be kidding. Why would he have slept with her? She was as ditsy as Jessica Simpson. Talk about stimulating conversation. I mean, obviously he’s slept with her, even if he couldn’t remember the airhead’s name. I watch in annoyance as she presses against him, giggling at something he whispers in her ear. UGH!

I jump off my stool, heading to the bar to trade in my empty bottle for a full one.

“Another Yuengling?” the bartender shouts over the noise.

“Nah, get me Guinness,” I shout back, he nods and heads off to get my beer. I needed something a little stronger than the good ‘ole black and tan.

 I sigh, looking out at the dance floor. Evgeni Malkin was dancing with a blonde I was pretty sure was his girlfriend, Tyler Kennedy was with a cute red head, and James Neal was pressed against the bimbo that was trying to set me on fire in the lounge.

“I heard she is trying to sleep around with the whole team,” I hear to my left, “But Max Talbot won’t even touch her, she just hangs around him hoping he’ll take her home.”

“What a slut. And all of those tattoos, they’re probably not even real, just to attract attention,” another voice says in disgust.

“Excuse me, they are real. Believe it or not I was there when the needle was going into my skin,” I growl, my eyes falling on two girls, faces caked in makeup both with martinis in their hands.

They both look at me in shock, surprised that I heard them.

“I’m not deaf you know,” I mumble.

“Well you’re obviously blind to think that Max would go out with you. You’re much too plain, any guy can see that,” the girl with the bright red lips spits.

I stare at her smug expression; compared to her I guess I was plain. I lacked the eyeliner and red lipstick she wore, and I didn’t cover my freckles with concealer and blush. I had sun damage from my many trips, digging in the open with no shade. I wore worn out jeans that were not designer because I didn’t have much money to spend; my money was spent on other things I found more important. I certainly didn’t become an archeologist to become wealthy. For that reason, I own one pair of heels that I never like to wear, instead opting for leather boots. Compared to her designer wears, I am plain, compared to what she looked like in this club I’m simple. It never bothered me before, but with Max pressed against a similar made up doll, I suddenly felt that I was too different.

“You no good…” I begin getting out of my chair, my fist balled at my sides ready to strike. Crazy bitch picked on the wrong plain Jane.

“Hey Maggs, I’m glad you could come,” I hear an accented voice say as a hand slid across my lower back and onto my hip. Kris Letang comes closer brushing his lips against my cheek. To anyone else it might look like a romantic or flirtatious gesture, but I could feel in his hold that he was trying to keep me from going after the other girl. I don’t break my glare from the other girl “Come on let’s go to the lounge.”

I relent, snatching the Guinness the bartender had left and letting Kris lead me away.

“Told you she was going through the team,” I hear the bitch with the red lips call after me.

“That’s it…”I begin turning around to go back at her. I hated girls.

“Ah ah ah,” Kris says quickly, reaching out and turning me back around, “The last thing we need is for the medics to get involved.”

“Oh come on, with all that make up on, I’m sure you wouldn’t even be able to see if I gave her a black eye,” I grumble, following him to the safety of the VIP lounge, where Sidney Crosby is giving me a very disapproving look.

I slouch down in one of the chairs, “She started it,” I mumble.

“Are you really that drunk that you almost got into a bar fight?” he asks.

“Who said I was drunk, I only had one beer, I’m not drunk! Just pissed as fuck,” I snap, “And believe me it wouldn’t have been much of a fight, Barbie wouldn’t have been able to handle a punch and I don’t slap.”

He just sighs shaking his head as I down my Guinness.

“I didn’t realize you let that shit bother you,” Kris replies, not looking at me but slyly drinking his Molson.

“I don’t!” I defend.

“Oh yeah, I can tell,” he chuckles, “Where’s Max, shouldn’t he be keeping an eye on you?”

“I’m not 12,” I pout at him.

“I meant, he brought you here, I figured…” he shrugs, as I look out to the dance floor to see Max pressed against Maddie making her giggle at something he said, making my blood boil.

“Nope, he found a girl for the night, I’m just old news,” I bite out; still watching the two of them… look how low his hands were on her hips, what a tool.

“I thought you guys weren’t together,” Kris says, his brows coming together in confusion.

“We’re not,” I say, quickly whipping around as Max’s eyes land on mine from across the room.

“Oh, my mistake. Well it looks like he’s done with his new toy,” Kris chuckles getting up from his chair as Max sits down beside me.

“What, I only get one beer for being 3rd Star of the game,” he grins, which soon turns to a frown when he sees my face, “What?”

“Where’d your bunny go?” I ask sweetly, I can see him flinch at my words, picking up on the hidden icy tone.

“I told her I had plans tonight and she left,” he shrugs, leaning against the bar behind us.

“Probably to see the wizard about a brain,” I murmur, swirling my beer in my hand watching the dark color spin.

“Oh, come on, she’s not stupid, just lacks common sense… you said she was better than that other chick,” he says his voice holding frustration as his eyes turn a stormy grey.

“I said she was a little better than a sloppy mess, doesn’t mean I like her,” I bite back.

“What’s wrong with her?”

“I just didn’t like her.”

“You’re such a girl sometimes,” he replies rolling his eyes.

“Well I do have all the recommended parts,” I state sarcastically, “It just seemed that the only thing she has between her ears is air.”

“Oh come on Maggs, just because she didn’t catch onto your sarcasm…” he huffs, his hands crossing over his chest in irritation.

“She thought my tattoos were FAKE! What is with women in this club?! Apparently their tight as fuck clothing cuts off the air supply to their brains!” I say loudly.

“Maggs…” he sighs, his right hand coming to rub his forehead like he was getting a headache.

“Or maybe it’s their damn skyscraper heels, the altitude has made them lose brain cells,” I continue, my voice sounding more like a shout.

“Maggie.” he tries again.

“God, what happened to western culture that women are completely abandoning all respect they have for themselves just so they can get fucked?!”

“Marguerite!” he shouts back at me.

The use of my full name snaps me back. No one, ever calls me that. No one, except the Admiral, which is probably why I hate the name so damn much. He had to pick a French name for me. All the boys got respectable Irish names, but no, he had to pick mine. Margret would’ve been better than that name.

“Don’t fucking call me that,” I growl lowly at Max, he should know better than to use that name.

“Then shut the hell up. If you’re going to be so critical about what goes on here, thinking you’re better than everyone else, leave,” he says back evenly, his eyes darkening as he growls at me.

“I don’t think I’m better than everyone else!” I shout back, “I’m just so sick of all these fake bastards judging me for looking like a normal human being and not something straight out of a fucking Playboy magazine!”

“Why the hell do you care? You have never cared what people thought before, and if you don’t already know, it doesn’t matter what they say because you are turning every male head in this joint. Everyone wants to take you home, even Sid can’t keep his eyes off of you,” he shouts back, gesturing to poor Crosby who is looking thoroughly pissed off and embarrassed for being called out.

“I don’t care,” I say matter of factly.

“Sure as hell seems like you do,” he says, mockingly using the same tone I just had.

“Nope. If you want to pick girls based on your dick’s opinion instead of your brain’s, that’s fine by me,” I snarl.

He looks at me a little taken back at my harsh comment, making me realize it probably was a little too harsh. Dammit, my mind was always to slow to catch up to my mouth.

“Max…” I sigh, beginning to apologize for the comment.

“I don’t want to hear it Maggs,” he replies gruffly, getting up and heading back out to the dance floor beer in hand, “Tanger will take you home.”

“Oh, come on Max, I’m sorry…” I begin, trying to fix it.

“What Maggs?” he snaps, turning around to face me. His jaw was set in a hard line, his lips pressed together in anger, and his eyes were a dark grey. “Not all of us have booty calls from all over the world. We can’t just run away to Australia to get laid. Some of us don’t have impossibly high standards that can only be met through international connections.”

“I don’t…” I begin, my temper heating up again.

“You do, you could take home just about any guy in here, but none of them are good enough for you, are they? Just because I can find someone to take home tonight and you can’t doesn’t mean you have to walk around here like you own the place. Stop being a tease and go to a pub if you don’t like it here. I’m sure there are plenty of bar sluts there that you’ll find less repulsive to join.”

“Hey!” I snap back my hands balling into fists at my side… that was going to far. But Max just smirks at me, knowing he’s hit a nerve, I could see the there was some alcohol clouding his eyes, but he wasn’t drunk, and that was uncalled for. I see movement out of the corner of my eye as a girl comes up to Max, Miss Red Lips that was at the bar talking smack on me before, to be exact.

“You heard him, go find some sluts to pal around with elsewhere, he wants nothing to do with you,” she smirks, her arms coming around Max’s waist.

He looks at her in shock, obviously not knowing who she is. I see him about to say something to her, but it’s too late I already have my fist raised. I see her lined eyes go wide, as she begins to cringe in anticipation, and Max just stands there in shock. It was like the world was in slow motion.

But before my fist connect with its target, I feel myself being pulled back by the waist, keeping the girl out of harm’s way. I look over my shoulder to see Kris Letang glaring at me with his arm around my waist, lifting me a few inches off the ground. I take a deep breath and let out a sigh, it’s a good thing he was here tonight.

“Come on, Maggs, I’m taking you home, now!” he growls, but I’m not sure if the growl is directed at me or Maxime Talbot and the girl wrapped around his waist.

I nod my head as he puts me down, obediently following him to the table to get my jacket.

“That’s right, bitch, go home. Before I do something you’ll regret,” I hear the girl say.

I tense, my adrenaline still on high. I take in a deep breath and let it through my nose, before I keep walking to get my coat.

“Good girl,” I hear Kris whisper beside me, knowing that now my self control was working hard to not put that girl in the hospital with a broken nose.

I grab my coat off the chair, where Crosby nods at me and Jordan Staal sends me an “I know you could fuck her up” grin. I turn, squaring my shoulders and letting Letang take my hand and lead me out of the club.

“Maggie…” I hear Max call after me.

“Save it, Talbot.” I snarl, keeping my eyes toward the door, knowing if I turned around someone in the vicinity was going to leave with a black eye, and it sure as hell wasn’t going to be me.

The cool air hits me like a wall, but it drops my blood pressure to where it should be. I pull my coat on as I follow Kris to his black BMW.

“Are you ok?” I hear Kris ask quietly.

“Yeah…” I sigh, “This wasn’t my first rodeo, Tiger.”

He chuckles beside me.

“Was the first that I didn’t land a punch though,” I smirk beside him.

“You know, jealousy doesn’t look good on anyone…but you sure as hell put up a good fight to make it look good,” he smirks at me.

I just give him a smile and sink into the leather seats of his car.

As he drives me back to the arena to get my jeep, I look out the window thankful for the silence. It was the first time Max Talbot had ever thrown a hard punch at me and it stung, more than what Red Lips had said. I could take the girly bitching with a grain of salt. If only he knew that he was right, I was too picky here. But that was because I couldn’t find anything that could measure up to him, here or anywhere. And that scares the shit out of me.

Wednesday, June 26, 2013

Chapter 15: Not without a Fight


Well Hello!

It has been quite a while since I posted, but I have not forgotten about this story. I have literally had writer's block on this chapter for almost 2 years! I kid you not, I could not pass a page and I have no idea why. But these last few days it has lifted, and I finally have moved on with the story. If there are any grammatical errors, I apologize. I was just so excited to get this back out there and moving again!

So here's hoping that now that I have graduated college (yeah, it has been that long!) I will have more time to write after work. 

~Aeryn 

Max’s POV

I sip my coffee, looking out the window as people walk by on my glorious day off. The sun is deceiving, and I watch as people pull their coats closer around them in the bitter wind. Pittsburgh, along with the rest of the world, had entered the month of December. Christmas decorations were everywhere, and hopes of snow were running in the weather report. But so far, the only evidence I saw was the frost that stuck to the small patch of grass in front of my house, that was sure to be gone when I get back.

Suddenly a bronzed beauty catches my eye as she rounds the street corner. I watch as she pulls off her aviator sunglasses and walks in the door, immediately making me smile.

 Before I can say anything, she is hurrying over to the coffee line, oblivious to my presence. I chuckle and get up, standing behind her. I pull her into me by the waist, spinning her around to hug her.

“Get your fuc…” she let’s out lowly, giving me a solid shove away from her. I should’ve known better. “Max! Jesus Christ, I was ready to break your nose,” she sighs before pulling me back in for a hug.

“Hey to you too stranger! How was Australia?” I chuckle, squeezing her petite body into me tightly.

She breaks away and looks up at me beaming, her green eyes sparkling with a smile.

“Awesome! I finally got to go to surfer’s paradise. The waves were gnarly,” she grins, pronouncing the last word with a perfect Australian accent. Her nose crinkling in a giggle afterwards, the freckles on top were more pronounced than before.

“Great, I’m glad you had fun!” I can’t help but grin back.

“I did. How was the game against Chicago?”

“Eh, it was ok. We lost 3-2, but it was good fast paced hockey,” I shrug.

“I’m sure, I was wicked bummed I miss it,” she replies.

“Can I help you?” the barista asks, breaking into our conversation.

As Maggie places her order I take in her appearance. She seemed to always have on those worn jeans and leather boots, but it was her. An brown bomber jacket covered what looked to be a cream thermal with a blue ikat scarf wound around her neck and a camera bag slung over her shoulder. I watch as she bites her lip, looking over the sign before ordering a tall Kona coffee with no cream. Her face was kissed by the sun, making her glow beneath the freckles on the bridge of her nose and cheeks. Her wavy raven mane looked slightly damp, hinting at a rushed shower. As she waited for her coffee, she twirled her sunglasses absent-mindedly in her hand.
“You off to the site now?” I ask, silently hoping she would say no so she didn’t have to go.

“Not exactly,” she says slowly before thanking the Barista who hands her, her coffee, “I’m headed over to the Fort Pitt Museum to take some shots of artifacts that have already been found.”

“Oh,” I frown, knowing my own voice sounds disappointed… I didn’t hide that very well.

“Yeah, I know sounds boring,” she smiles, seemingly misinterpreting my response, “But once you get through the wax figures and behind the scenes it’s a lot more interesting.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” I chuckle, thinking about how much of a geek she really is... a geek with an amazing ass; I smirk taking in her appearance again.

“Well, I better get going…” she sighs looking at her watch before pushing her raven curls away from her face.

“Hey why don’t you come to the game tomorrow night?” I find myself asking loudly.

“What?” she asks, a little startled at my declaration.

“Yeah, I’ll have your tickets for you, just pick them up before. We’re playing the Canucks,” I say walking with her to the door, my hands stuffed in my pockets so I wouldn’t be tempted to touch the small of her back.

“Ok, I’ll be there!” She smiles, “See ya Max,”

“Bye Maggs,” I say shifting awkwardly as she stands grinning in front of me. Do I hug her? Kiss her? I definitely wanted to do the former, I think as she stands watching me with those knowing green eyes and that sassy pink smirk. God, I never have these problems with women, but with Maggie, my brain seems to short circuit.

She leans in close to me, her hand coming to my forearm as she almost touches her lips to my ear, making me jump at the contact.

“You need to stop looking at me like that, a girl will get the wrong idea,” she whispers in a sultry voice, before turning and walking away. Those hips swinging as her boots clacked on the cement sidewalk and she pulls her aviators over her eyes, shaking out her thick raven mane.

“Maybe it’s the right idea,” I call after her.

She just looks over her shoulder and gives me a grin as she continues on her way. Damn she drove me crazy. It seems like every time I see her is not enough, and every time she lets down her guard, I catch a glimpse of her feelings toward me. But before I can decifer them, she realizes what she is thinking, getting back on defense and becoming that playful tomboy again. I’m not going to let her go without a fight.

Maggie’s POV

“This is crazy,” I mutter to myself as I stand in front of my closet.

Why was it taking me so long to find something to wear?! It was a hockey game for God’s sake, not a date… definitely not a date.  I look over the closet again. I need something simple. I chuckle to myself; all of my clothes were simple, only a few pieces really caught attention. I didn’t want my clothes to catch attention; I wanted me to catch attention. We’d probably going out after a win right, so I should wear something a little sexy? Of course me wearing something sexy could jinx the win and then we could lose, so just jeans and a tshirt? I’m about to give up and go in a towel when the doorbell rings.

“Coming!” I shout, throwing on a pair of boxers and a large t-shirt to answer the door.

I open the door to find no one there, just a large white box with a gold bow sitting at my doorstep. My brows knit together in confusion and I read the tag on the card.

“It’s colder now, so wear this tonight” I look around the hall, no body around. I turn the card over to find more letters, “Just do it.”

A smirk appears on my face, no one bosses me around but one person. I chuckle and take the package inside, setting it on the table to open it. Why was I suddenly so excited? Too much coffee today, that has to be it.

I pull back the gold tissue paper to reveal a Penguin’s jersey, making a smile appear on my face.

“He didn’t,” I say out loud, as I pull the sweater from the box, with it a familiar spicy male scent comes wafting out.

On the back it in big white print is a number “25” with “TALBOT” on the top. I can’t help but smile; he wants me to wear his jersey to a game that was certainly a step up from a t-shirt. But what did that mean? I thought I had made it clear that I didn’t want to be in a relationship, or any kind of romantic … thing with him. Of course, a jersey didn’t have to say that, did it? I mean, there were guys all over the city wearing player’s jerseys this morning.

“It is cold out…” I say to myself, my fingers running over the white lettering.


“Wooo Hooo” I scream as Max is declared the 3rd star of the game with 1 goal and one assist in the overtime win against the Blues.

I wait in my seat as the rows and rows of chairs begin to empty, for some reason I was prolonging going downstairs. My brain analyzing what was going on with Max.

“Just stop, it’s nothing,” I almost say out loud.

But if it was just nothing, why did I feel a tingle go down my spine this morning when I hugged him, his muscular body making my body hum just by being close by. Why did I want the flirting to turn into something more than playful banter? It was like High School all over again, except I was an adult now, I couldn’t live that carefree life anymore… or could I?

I heave myself up with a sigh, my brain needed to stop thinking so much. I make my way to the locker room, jumping over the railing again because I still hadn’t figured out the path to get there normally. Jimmy just nods at me with a smile at his post at the door as I walk by and into the waiting lounge.

I sit on one of the couches, all the women in the room keeping their distance from me. Maybe it was because I have never been there before, or maybe it had something to do with the name splashed across the back of my jersey, but I felt like I was being judged… probably harshly by some standards. One blonde and her leggy friend in particular were trying to set me ablaze with their eyes. I sigh and push a hand through my hair… why the hell were women so damn catty?!

Slowly, the players start to enter in, each claiming a smiling wife or girlfriend or, in the case of James Neal, a giggling bimbo that had been trying to burn a hole in my skull before. Neal winks in my direction as he’s heading out. I wink back, making the girl on his side give me the most disgusted face she could muster… which made my smile grow even wider.

Every time the door opens my head whips up in anticipation. Do I hug him? Kiss him on the cheek? Slug him in the arm in congratulations?

Suddenly, my time to think is up and he’s standing in front of me in a grey suit and purple shirt with a deep purple tie. His hair still wet from his shower and his blue eyes smiling at me.  

“Hey Maggs!” he grins behind his scruff.

“Hey, great game, 3rd star!” I smile, my body pushing itself into his arms for a hug. I could smell the soap he had used in his shower and the cologne he put on just recently that was intoxicating, but not overwhelming. The hug lasted longer than it probably should’ve, the feeling of his hard body still imprinted on mine even after it broke.  His blue eyes connect with mine, trying to find meaning in why the situation was suddenly so awkward…. why was it so awkward?!

“So, um… the guys are headed out, if you want to tag along,” he says clearing his throat.

“Right, of course, it was a great win you guys deserve a night out. Of course I’ll come,” I seem to say in one breath.

“Ok great!” he grins at me, those blue eyes clear as a cloudless sky like magnets to my own stare, like they knew they were undoing me at the seems… so much for my surf cleanse.

Someone coughs behind us and we break our gaze…

‘what the hell was that?!’ I think to myself, shaking off the connection.

“Alright, Tiger,” I say slugging him in the arm like the Maggie that wasn’t under his spell would, “lemme buy you a beer for the win.”

“I don’t suppose I can order a Bud Light,” he says, with an eyebrow raised as we walk to the car.

“Fuck no Talbot, fuck no” I smile at him, making him groan.

“You’re worse than Geno!” he groans, his arm coming around me to pull me into his side, “And he’s Russian.”

“Yeah well, I’m Irish and Scottish, in my book we were drinking first,” I huff, leaning into him and hating that I was letting myself.

“Is that true?” he asks skeptically.

“I dunno, but it sounds good to me,” I shrug, slipping into the passenger seat of his car. The thought of getting into my car never even occurred to me, and I look over at him startled but he’s just smirking at me, those blue eyes turning a stormy grey.

“I see you got the jersey,” he smiles, not allowing my eyes to wander from his.

“Yeah,” I smile, looking down at the sleeves, trying to keep a blush from making an appearance on my cheeks.

“You look good in it,” he says quietly, his voice getting huskier making me look up to find him closer than before.

“25, seemed like a good number,” I almost whisper back, inadvertently looking to his lips. My mind suddenly whispers kiss me, and it startles me, making me back away a little bit away from the heated situation.

“I can’t promise you that I’ll take you home afterwards,” he says truthfully, warning me before starting the car. I can feel his words run warmly through my body, my mind trying desperately to pull the emergency brake.

“Pfft, some one has to make sure your drunk ass gets home!” I quip, quickly wiping the slate of the idea of going home with him for another reason.

“I don’t have practice tomorrow, Maggs,” Max says suggestively.

“Well then I don’t have to worry about rehydrating you,” I smirk back.

Max Talbot may have started to charm his way into my heart… but I wasn’t going without a fight!

Monday, July 11, 2011

Chapter 14: Hard to Kick

Even though I'm slightly heartbroken... this story must go on. Because I just can't stop writing it. SO even though a certain hockey player is moving across the state, in this story he will stay in the 'Burgh. Good Luck Superstar!

Max’s POV

She was so goddamn frustrating! Why couldn’t she just give us a shot? It was blatantly obvious that there was chemistry between us. She didn’t even deny it! And what did she mean ‘it’s easier if we’re just friends’? It was getting pretty damn hard trying to behave myself. And the fact that she wanted me too, but was just too stubborn to admit it, had made my hand my night companion for a few weeks instead of her curves that I craved.

I turn off the shower, stepping out into the thick steam in my bathroom. I dry off, shaking the water out of my hair, before wrapping the towel around my waist and heading into my bedroom where Stanley was trying to get a milkbone out of his Kong toy. I pick up my phone from the bed.

Staalzy: ‘Diesel, 10:30.’

I smile to myself. I wasn’t going to be a celibate waiting for Maggie. It was taking a whole hell of a lot longer to land her than I thought it would.

I take a shot of Irish whiskey, chasing it with a swig of Bud Light. Maggie would be appalled by the action, chasing the Irish liquid with what she called “American water.” No, not thinking of her. I look around the club, searching for a suitable partner. I spot a brunette looking at me from the other side of the bar. I smile at her, and she smiles back putting in a cute wave.

I grin and push myself off the bar walking over to her side. She was just below my height with black pumps, which were attached to long legs clad in a short black skirt. She had on a long sleeved red shirt that warmed her tanned skin and dipped low in the front. Her long brown hair was curled into perfect waves, which were swept over one shoulder.

“So, how about we skip the small talk and cheesy pick up lines. I’m Max,” I smile charmingly, kissing her hand.

She giggles at my charm, and I know I have someone to take home.

“Maddie,” she smiles back.

I laugh, before leading her out for a dance. A petite brunette named Maddie. Of course.

Maggie’s POV

He rolls off of me to the other side of the bed, trying to cool down in the hot Aussie weather. The heat could be merciless when you didn’t add water. Our heavy breathing mingled with the sounds of the gulls in the distance and the soft beating of the ceiling fan’s motor. The moving air helped to evaporate the slick sweat from my body, helping me to cool my body temperature again.

“Damn, Darlin’, that was a hell of a goodbye,” he pants next to me.

I chuckle, turning on my side to look at him, my head resting in my hand.

“You’re not so bad yourself, Tiger,” I smirk, tracing the waves in the tattoo that circled his upper bicep. A ‘T’ with wings on a larger bicep flashes in my mind, but I quickly shake my head, clearing the thought.

His blue eyes look to my eyes for a minute but wander over my exposed flesh greedily. They were always blue, the color of the ocean. Surprisingly unlike the blue eyes in the States that turned a stormy grey as often as the Pittsburgh sky. I take a deep breath, remembering my intent.

I move so that I’m straddling his slim waist, his strong core beneath me. I whip my head to one side, letting gravity take my thick hair to one shoulder so that I can cool off. I let my hands wander around his chest, tracing unique patterns in his tan skin. He let’s out a hum, his hands coming up to caress my hips, before settling on my ass with a squeeze.

“Mmmm, those hands are always wandering,” I smirk at him.

“They’ve got a mind of their own,” he grins at me.

I chuckle lowly, before pulling his wrists so that his arms rested above his head. He pouts at me, which I answer by pressing myself to his body, my chest brushing against his. I pull my head up so that my mouth connects with his, my tongue exploring his mouth. After a few moments, I let my lips journey away, kissing down his neck and letting my tongue flick over the spot right below his jaw. His sun bleached hair, tickles my nose as I do so, so unlike the clean cut brown hair that I wanted to run my fingers through in the airport. I linger on the spot, sucking ever so gently as I hear him let out a groan, his hands trying to free themselves of my grasp.

“That’s not nice Maggie,” he warns, his voice low.

“Mmmm,” I respond against his throat, before traveling down to nibble on his collarbone and grinding my hips against his abs.

“Fuuuck,” he moans, and I feel him growing against my back.

He tries to flip us over, but I use my weight as leverage, keeping me on top. I move my hips back a little, so that his erection is poking my outer thigh.

I bring my mouth to his again, keeping one hand on his wrists while reaching my other hand to circle around his shaft. He could easily break his arms free, but with his penis in my hand, he is in no place to demand.

I begin to stroke him, my tongue still in his mouth as he groans, his hips bucking up slightly. I smirk, sitting up abruptly.

“Come on Maggie,” he says huskily, “You’ve got to finish what you started.”

“Only if you promise to take me one last time, before I leave,” I say.

I hear him groan, “I have a date.”

“Exactly. Do you want to go on your date with blue balls?” I ask cockily, knowing the advantage I had.

“You have to finish this, not just for me but for you too,” he grins at me, his arm pulling away and his hand coming to the already damp place between my thighs. I gasp as he pushes a finger into me, his thumb pushing my clit like a starter button. “You need this just as much as I do.”

I stifle a moan and instinct takes over as my hips move, pushing his finger in deeper. I hear him chuckle before he takes away the pleasure, licking the juices off his finger. I glare at him.

“That’s what you think. But, if you’re going to be like that,” I say beginning to get off him, “I can just finish this up quickly in the bathroom,” I finish licking my own fingers suggestively.

His eyes widen, before he let’s out a feral growl, flipping me onto my back and hovering overtop.

“Fine. I’ll take you.”

“Take me where?” I ask sweetly, batting my eye lashes innocently.

“I will take you, one last time to Surfer’s Paradise. And when you’re itchy from the salt water on your 25 hour flight, that’s your own damn fault.”

My mind switches over to picture a different body above me, one that was shaped by a life on the ice, not in the ocean. I can’t help the transformation from taking shape in my mind. After a week of sex with an Australian surfer you would think I could at least diminish the fantasy in my mind, but I was having no such luck. The habit was proving hard to kick.

“Yes it will be,” I nod, before pushing Max out of my mind and pulling my self up to connect our mouths, my right leg hooking over his hips.

He needs no further encouragement and plows into me, his full length filling me completely.

I sit with my legs dangling over the sides of the board. The ocean’s gentle current moving me slightly. I look off into the distant blue, waiting.

Riley had left a half hour ago to go on his date, which he had already postponed two hours. He quit surfing when I pulled out my iPhone and quickly changed my flight. He had wanted to drive me to the airport, but I could manage.

I watch as the waves build up in the distance, I needed one last cleanse before I could leave, go back to Pittsburgh, and face him again. Before I put on the ‘just friends’ fa├žade.

I take a deep breath, pulling my legs up and leaning down on my board. My arms paddle through the water, inching me closer to the Promised Land, abundant in gnarly waves. There were people all around me, enjoying some of the best waves in the worlds. There was a reason this was called ‘Surfer’s Paradise’.

Finally I see the one I’ve been looking for. It builds up slowly, promising to tower over me. I swiftly move up to my feet, my arms out to help maintain my balance. Using my core and legs I plant myself firmly on the white board, my feet perpendicular to the two orange strips running down it’s length. As the wave rolls closer to land, it takes me with it. Using muscle and momentum I turn my board to ride on the giant’s mighty edge, my hand coming out to sweep along its blue coolness.

I could feel my muscles, all working together to keep me centered and upright, the roaring of the ocean in my ear as the sun begins to dip lower to the horizon. As the wave carries me, others beside me wipe out, but I try to remain upright. Balancing on the edge becomes harder and harder as the wave gets steeper. I ride it for as long as I can, before I can no longer hold on. My body gives in, falling in to the cool blue ocean, feeling the tide swarm around me. I feel a tug on my ankle as my board drifts further than me, thank God for that ankle strap. I kick my legs hard in the water, breaking the surface and gasping in the clean air, my board next to me.

I let the bliss bubble up inside me as I tread water next to the surfboard, watching as the wave I was riding goes crashing into the shore. It is suddenly too much to take and burst out in a loud laugh, my head falling back, the weight of my wet hair making it easy. I swim easily to shore, feeling no need to rush, even though the sun has dipped lower and the sharks will be out soon. But I find that my feet touch the sandy bottom quicker than I expected, and soon I can walk up the beach.

I push my board in the sand next to my duffel and messenger bag. I pull out my camera and look out to the ocean. The horizon had become a canvas to a mighty force, streaked with reds, oranges, and yellows. It darkens the once clear blue waters, making the few stragglers surfing their final waves into dark silhouettes. I pull the camera up to my eye, focusing the shot and pushing the button, actions that were now just second nature.

Lowering the camera, I take in the picture in front of me. I breathe deeply, knowing that even when the film was developed, the picture could not match the beauty in front of me now. This was breath-taking beauty that literally made a person forget how to take in air for a moment. No matter how good of a photographer I was destined to become in this life, nothing could compare to the real thing. My photos only provided a glimpse of what nature could do. Man’s inventions simply cannot compare to Mother Nature herself.

Max’s POV

I wake up to my phone vibrating on the table next to me.

The thoughts of last night, although slightly clouded, come back to me and I immediately look to my right. But instead of her head on the pillow, there is a piece of paper.

Thanks for a great night, Superstar. Call me.

~ Maddie

I sit up, leaning on my arm as I scan the paper in my hand. I let out a low chuckle; we both knew that I wasn’t going to call. But she was a good fuck, maybe if I was feeling a little lonely one night…

I suddenly remember my phone and roll over to retrieve my phone from the bedside table.

Maggie Sutherland : ‘I’m baaaaack!’

I smirk at the text, thinking of the feisty brunette that could not be compared to, not even to a similar brunette with a coincidentally similar name. So similar, that luckily Maddie didn't notice when I moaned the wrong name last night... oops. And I wasn't supposed to be thinking of her. That habit was seemingly harder to kick than I thought.

I text back.

To Maggie Sutherland: ‘Lord help us all.’

Moments later my phone goes off again.

Maggie Sutherland: ‘ :P ’

I chuckle at the text; she definitely was one of a kind. Maybe… I won’t be lonely.

Wednesday, June 15, 2011

Chapter 13: Easier

Congrats to the Boston Bruins, 2011 Stanley Cup Champs! Tim Thomas, you earned The Cup for sure! And Recchin' Ball, way to go out with a bang :)


“So you’re running away,” Paddy asks, sitting on the end of my bed.

“I’m not running away, I’m just leaving for a few days,” I sigh, shaking my head and putting my two bathing suits in my canvas duffel bag.

“Sounds like you’re running away, to me. Is this all because of Max and you wanting to tear each other’s clothes off?” he asks, holding up a bikini top and looking at it disapprovingly.

“No. Max and I are just friends, which I have already explained to you, multiple times,” I reply, snatching the top from his hand and putting it back in the duffel, “And I’m not running, just getting some air.”

“Maggie, why can’t you just admit you have a thing for him? It’s obvious that he’s into you,” he says stretching out his long legs on my bed.

“I thought you didn’t want me to be with Max?”

“Well that’s before I realized how much you two love each other.”

“Padraig, we’re not in love. We’re just…”

“… Friends, I heard. But obviously there is some more to it. Otherwise he wouldn’t have let you stay and not had sex with you, AND you wouldn’t be going to … wherever you’re going now.”

“How do you know we didn’t have sex?” I ask raising my eyebrow, watching him as he rolls his eyes.

“Because, my dear sister, you don’t have the look,” he replies sarcastically.

“What look?”

“The ‘I-just-got-laid’ look and you’re still a little cranky,” he smirks at me, reclining fully on my bed.

“Whatever,” I mumble throwing in a pair of cutoffs.

We remain silent as I finish up my packing, a few pairs of underwear & a bra, my 2 bathing suits, a rash guard, flip flops, & my travel conditioner, deodorant, and contact solution.

Paddy was already packed and ready to go. He was due to leave this morning, flying out of Pittsburgh Airport to Alaska to visit Sean. I was leaving right after him.

I shoo him out of my room and change into a white tank layered under a Penn State hoodie. I wiggle into my other pair of cut off jeans and slip on my boots.

I walk out of the room and begin throwing my remaining stuff in my messenger bag; two books, glasses, iPod, phone, chapstick, passport & id, ticket and my leather bound journal.

“Alright,” I say throwing my duffel and messenger bag by the door, “You ready?”

“Yeah,” he says, walking over to the kitchen with me.

I pull out two shot glasses from the cabinet and my bottle of the whiskey I brought back from Ireland on my last visit. I pour the brown gold liquid into each glass, my brother takes one and I the other.

“Here’s to safe travels and good times,” I begin, holding up my glass, as does he.

“To no fear and more beer,” he grins back.

“To learning from mistakes and embracing life.”

“To our next adventure.”

“To our next adventure,” I agree with a laugh.

We clink our glasses and down our shots. It was something all the Sutherland siblings did when we parted. We weren’t a very religious family, much to my grandmother’s dismay, but for us, toasting was our prayer. Life was a mystery and who knew what could happen to any of us by the time we met again… if we ever did, God willing.

We grab our gear and head out, I walk to my jeep but Paddy stops me.

“Nope. I got us a ride,” he smiles at me, waving to someone in the distance.

“You what?” I ask, looking over to where he’s waving.

There he stands, leaning against his car in jeans, a black fleece coat, and that infamous grin. A shiver goes down my spin… because it’s 45 degrees and I have on shorts.

“What is Max doing here?” I hiss at my brother. This made disappearing just a little harder.

“I figured he could give us a ride to the airport, that way you don’t have to pay to park your car for an extended time,” he smiles sweetly at me, his green eyes widening innocently.

I send him a glare.

“You’re welcome,” he smiles pushing me in the direction of Max.

“Hey Maggs, Paddy,” Max grins, pulling me into a hug.

I feel myself tense in his strong arms, trying not to let on that I liked his embrace more than I should. I really needed this trip; being away from him would help clear my mind. I let myself melt into his touch, hugging him back.

“Hey Max,” I sigh, trying not to let his scent get to me, but loving how his arms tighten around me.

“Why are you wearing shorts?” he asks quietly.

I hear Paddy clear his throat behind us, making us pull away.

“We should get going, I don’t want to miss my flight,” my brother says, throwing a soft knowing smile at me.

I nod and climb into the back seat of the car, letting Paddy take the front. The mixture of emotions going through me was beginning to be exhausting, along with confusing. Paddy was leaving, and I wouldn’t see him again until Christmas, luckily that was only a month away. I liked Max too much and I was getting tired of pretending I didn’t. That’s why I had to get out, maybe if I was away from him for a while I would come to my senses, remind myself of why I couldn’t do what I found myself wanting to do for the first time in a long time. I felt myself wanting more than just sex and a friends with benefits relationship. But I didn’t have time for what I wanted. I didn’t and couldn’t live that life.

I stare out the window at Pittsburgh, watching the water droplets from the rain descend down the glass with the cityscape in the background. I could feel Max glancing back at me through the rear view mirror while he and Paddy chatted about hockey, but I couldn’t look back.

Max’s POV

“I’ll be right back, I need to use the restroom,” Maggie murmurs heading to the bathroom as soon as we get into the airport.

As soon as she’s out of sight, Padraig turns to me.

“Max, she feels the same way,” he says quietly, his green eyes intensely watching for a reaction.

I look at him, my brows furrowing.

“What do you mean?”

“Maggie, she’s falling in love with you too,” he says, looking over to the bathroom to make sure his sister isn’t coming.

My breath catches involuntarily, could this really work out?

“She… she said that?” I cough, trying to find my voice again.

“Of course she didn’t,” he says rolling his eyes, “But I can tell, she wouldn’t have gone home with you otherwise and she wouldn’t be running now.”

“Running?” I ask, confused again.

“I don’t know where she’s going, somewhere warm, but she’s running from her emotions that’s for sure.”

“So that duffel isn’t yours and that’s why she’s wearing shorts,” I wonder aloud.

“Yup,” he nods, quickly shutting up as Maggie walks back toward us.

“How long?” I ask desperately. She couldn’t be running away forever could she? She had to come back right? Her bags weren’t that big; both could be carry-ons, so she didn’t have that much to go on. Then again it was Maggie.

He looks at me to answer my question, but Maggie has already reached us. He looks at me apologetically, and turns with a smile toward his sister.

“Alright, I’m ready!” she smiles, a little cheerier than before.

“Good, well Max I guess this is it,” Paddy says turning to me, hand out stretched, “Hopefully I’ll see you again soon.”

“Hopefully,” I smile at him and shake his hand. Who knew Padraig Sutherland and I could ever shake hands again or that he’d be ok with me going after his sister. If he weren’t ok with it, the handshake would have been his fist connecting to my face.

“See ya, Talbot,” Maggie waves, heading over to the security line.

“Wait hold up Maggs,” I say reaching out to grab her arm, not wanting to let her go until I knew she was coming back, “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Yeah, quickly,” she sighs, allowing me to pull her away from her brother, and to a less crowded area of the airport.

“Maggie how long are you going to be gone?” I ask quietly, getting close to her small frame so she can hear me.

“Max…” she sighs, averting her gaze to the floor.

“Where are you even going? And why are you leaving?” I ask, trying not to plead.

“I’m going to Australia for a few days, get some sun, surf, and visit an old friend,” she says looking back up at me.

I search her green eyes, making sure she’s telling the truth.

“Why now?” I ask simply, needing to hear it for myself that she was leaving because of me.

“I … um…” she says, leaning in a little close to me, “I just need to clear my head. You know, a good surf cleansing.”

“Actually I don’t know, I’ve never been surfing,” I smirk down at her, “You know most girls go to the spa or something when they need to clear their head.”

She chuckles softly, looking down and adjusting her messenger bag on her shoulder before looking back up at me.

“Yeah, well, I’m not most girls,” she smiles, that familiar mischievous glint in her eye.

“No, you’re not,” I smile back, looking down to her pink smirk and back up to clover colored eyes.

I watch as she bites her bottom lip and watch her eyes wander down lower on my face. I begin to close the distance, wanting nothing more than to pull her away from the airport and back to my apartment to do what I didn’t do the other day. I wanted to close the distance that I had backed away from when she was in my t-shirt and those sexy black-rimmed glasses. Her green eyes had begged me to kiss her that morning, but I let the chance slip away… again.

This time, her hand comes to my chest, stopping me from pressing my lips to her. I sigh, squeezing my eyes shut tightly before opening them and finding her green eyes looking at me almost painfully. Her touch burned through my shirt.

“Max,” she says quietly, her voice was tired as if she was losing a fight, “We… I can’t.”

“Why? Why can’t we just give it a try Maggs? Because there is obviously something here,” I say, gesturing between us, frustrated that she wasn’t willing to give me a chance.

“It’s easier if we’re just friends,” she says, stepping away and pulling her hand away from my chest and sweeping it through her coffee colored mane.

I nod, sticking my hands in my jean pockets with a defeated sigh.

“I have to go,” she says, after a few moments of silence.

She steps closer, hugging me cautiously. I wrap my arms around her tightly, giving her a squeeze and breathing in her mint and pepper scent.

“I’ll see you in a week,” she whispers, before gently kissing my cheek. So gentle that I can hardly feel the touch of her lips.

“A week it is,” I smile, letting go of her.

She smiles back and walks over to her brother, who waves before they head through the security line. I can’t help but watch her little ass wiggle in those cut off jeans. Her leather boots seemed to call more attention to her lean muscular legs.

I sigh and walk back out to my car. As I’m about to climb into the front seat, my phone goes off in my pocket, signaling a text.

From: Paddy Sutherland ‘Don’t give up on her. She’ll give in eventually.’

Maggie’s POV

After saying goodbye to Padraig, I boarded the plane to Australia. Well… first to Chicago, then to LA, THEN to Australia. Over 25 hours after almost kissing Max Talbot in Pittsburgh International Airport, I landed in Brisbane, Australia. I told myself that I wouldn’t think of him from the minute I boarded the plane. However, 25 hours is a long time, and after the first hour I found myself fighting off thoughts of the hockey player. 5 hours in, I gave up and let my mind wonder.

But now, I was here, on my vacation and I was NOT allowed to think about him until I boarded that plane again.

After leaving the terminal and walking into the chaotic crowd I begin my search. I let out a groan as I look around. Trying to find a sun-bleached surfer in an Australian crowd was next to impossible here. I take off my hoodie, it was entirely too hot for that now. November in Australia meant it was almost summer, instead of almost winter in Pennsylvania.

“MAGGIE!” I hear a voice shout to my left.

I look to my left to see my old friend, jogging toward me. I hadn’t seen him in at least 2 years, making him 29 now. He was the stereotypical Australian surfer. He had shaggy blond hair bleached by the sun and salt water, blue eyes like the ocean, and a tall sculpted surfer’s body that was bronzed by living on the beach.

As soon as he hits me, he pulls me quickly against his sun-warmed body.

“G’day mate!” I grin at him, using my best Australian accent.

He laughs, his head falling back making the sound echo off the airport walls. His booming laugh soon diminishes into a quiet chuckle, as his left hand comes to settle on my hip and he steps close again. His light blue gaze drops to my lips, making me smirk, before his eyes connect with mine, shinning with a smile. His other hand comes up to my neck, his thumb brushing my jawbone as he smiles at me.

“G’day mate,” he says quietly, before his mouth is on mine.