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?