A Dream Christmas. Кэрол Мортимер
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annoyed, actually, because of the way you bullied me into this. I’m not a child, Max, and I don’t appreciate being treated like one, either,’ she added impatiently as he stepped out of the lift beside her into the hallway.
Max had no doubt that Sophie was spoiling for another argument. Just as he was convinced that her reaction to his insistence on driving her home and accompanying her up to the flat she was staying in was slightly … off. Out of proportion to the situation, because there was no way she would be able to get back to his apartment tomorrow if the snow kept falling as heavily as it was.
‘Nor do I have any intention of introducing you to Henry,’ she continued stubbornly as she came to a stop outside one of the doors.
Yes, definitely off, Max decided.
‘What’s the big deal, Sophie?’
She was behaving far too edgily for Max to be one hundred per cent convinced as to her claim of having only a platonic relationship with this guy Henry.
Not that he thought Sophie had ever lied to him—on the contrary, she could be too damned honest for comfort at times. It was just that the more she tried to fob him off, the more determined Max became to meet this Henry and judge the situation for himself.
He gave a shake of his head. ‘I really can’t see what your problem is about the two of us meeting.’
‘I don’t remember asking to be introduced to your friend Cynthia,’ Sophie came back heatedly.
‘Ah, I’d forgotten, you must have heard my side of that telephone conversation with her a couple of days ago,’ Max acknowledged ruefully. ‘Cynthia had ideas about our previous relationship that in no way coincided with my own,’ he dismissed grimly. ‘I’ve only been out with her a few times, and I haven’t so much as seen her for over a week.’
‘You don’t have to explain yourself to me,’ Sophie assured dismissively.
‘Any more than you need to explain yourself to me in regards to Henry?’
‘Exactly.’
Max’s eyes narrowed at her vehemence. ‘Is Cynthia the reason you’ve been so determined to keep your distance from me?’
Sophie gave an inelegant snort. ‘That doesn’t seem to have worked out too well for me so far, now does it?’
Max gave a satisfied grin at the truth of that statement; he didn’t seem to be able to keep his hands off Sophie for longer than a few minutes at a time, and she wasn’t exactly fighting him off either. ‘The difference being that I’m no longer even seeing Cynthia, whereas you’re actually sharing an apartment with Henry,’ he pointed out softly.
Sophie drew in a frustrated breath. ‘You really are the most persistently stubborn man I have ever …’
‘Ever what?’ Max prompted huskily as Sophie broke off the statement abruptly, her cheeks blushing a fiery red.
Ever known she was falling in love with, Sophie inwardly acknowledged, disgusted by her weakness.
The only man she had ever known she was falling in love with.
Max Hamilton, of all men.
She had to be a masochist to have ever allowed such a thing to happen.
Allowed it?
It had crept up on her these past few days without her even realising it was happening.
And now it was too late, she acknowledged with an inward groan.
Because, as Max steadily held her gaze with his as his head slowly began to lower towards hers, Sophie knew that she was already in love with him.
Her knees actually went weak at the first touch of Max’s lips against hers, and she might even have collapsed at his feet in their handmade Italian leather shoes if she hadn’t reached up to grasp onto the collar of his jacket.
It was certainly impossible for her to pull back from responding to that dizzying kiss. Or to resist when Max continued to kiss her as he took the keys to the flat out of her hand. Although she did manage to make a throaty murmur of protest as he unlocked the door and gently pushed her inside.
‘No Henry,’ Max murmured with satisfaction as the darkness and silence of the apartment told him that the two of them were alone.
Unless Henry had already gone to bed? Which, as far as Max was concerned, was just as good as the two of them being alone.
‘I’ve been wanting to do this again for hours,’ he acknowledged throatily before backing Sophie up against the wall, capturing both her hands in his and raising them above her head before taking hungry possession of her mouth.
The hardness of Max’s arousal pressing up against her caused a responding ache and dampness between Sophie’s own thighs as she returned the heat of his kisses, their lips tasting, tongues duelling, teeth biting, the two of them hungry for each other. For being closer still, as Max easily dispensed with both of their coats before pressing into her hotly.
Sophie was breathing hard by the time Max finally raised his head to look down at her with glittering eyes. ‘Bedroom?’ he prompted economically.
Definitely not the bedroom, Sophie had enough sense left to decide; not only were there recriminating photographs of Sally and Josh in there, but Henry’s noticeable absence gave her the feeling that he was currently curled up asleep on the bed. No doubt in feline protest at being left on his own for much of today!
‘Sitting room,’ she substituted breathlessly.
‘Take me there,’ he encouraged throatily as he took a firm hold of her hand.
Sophie found her way down the hallway in the darkness—darkness was good, less chance this way of Max seeing anything he shouldn’t.
Besides, it wasn’t completely dark in the sitting room, the layer of snow on the ground outside causing a reflection of light to glow eerily through the windows, giving everything a strange grey effect, including Max and Sophie.
‘Remember that ju-jitsu move you made on me earlier this evening?’ he prompted huskily.
Sophie looked up at Max as she replied uncertainly, ‘Yes.’ Max’s teeth gleamed down at her in a grin in the darkness even as Sophie felt her feet leave the floor, the breath knocked out of her lungs as she landed flat on her back on the sofa. ‘Max! ‘
‘Fair’s fair,’ he murmured with satisfaction, taking his weight on his elbows as he slowly lowered himself down on top of her, the two of them touching from chest to thighs as he claimed her lips once again.
Sophie felt surrounded by Max even as she gave herself up to the pleasure of that kiss. To his heat. His smell. The sheer immediacy of him.
She was completely lost to that pleasure as she felt the warmth of his hand cupping her breast beneath her sweater. The soft pad of his thumb was a light, and then harder, caress against her already roused nipple. His lips roamed the length of her throat, tasting, biting and murmuring his approval as she let out a low groan of pleasure as he pushed up her sweater. She had only the thin barrier of her bra between her flesh and his as Max suckled one of her nipples into the heat of his mouth.
‘White or cream?’ he murmured seconds later as his kissed his way across to its twin.
‘Cream.’ Sophie didn’t even pretend not to understand him.
‘Are you wearing a matching thong?’
‘Yes.’
‘I need to see that!’ Max groaned, heat having coursed through his body, his arousal hot and pulsing, just visualising Sophie in a thong.
His gaze held hers as he moved slowly down her body until he knelt between her parted thighs. He unfastened the button and zip of her trousers before folding the material back, his breath catching in his throat, mouth going dry, as he revealed the scrap of cream lace covering