Chapter 49 You're turned on right now
Veronica's POV:
The kiss was good. So good that I almost forgot I was actually standing in the middle of nowhere with Max, surrounded by darkness and dense woods and absolutely no civilization in sight.
I immediately pulled back from him, my hands pressing against his bare chest to create distance even though every cell in my body was screaming at me not to.
"Max, we should go," I said. "This place seems like woods itself. There could be snakes out here. Or bears. Or... other dangerous things."
His blue eyes had almost gone dark and that infuriating smirk curved his lips as he looked at me with amusement.
"Just accept it, Veronica," he said. "You're turned on right now... By me. And you're afraid of taking it forward, so you're making up lame excuses."
Heat flooded through me despite the chilliness of the night air. "No. Absolutely not. I'm being practical and understanding right here... why are you always poking me—"
But his smirk only widened, cutting off my protest. He knew. He absolutely knew exactly what he was doing to me... and he was enjoying every second of my flustered denial.
"Sometimes you are just too arrogant, you know that?" I said, trying to inject some bite into my tone even as my traitorous body leaned slightly toward him.
"Of course, I'm arrogant," Max agreed easily, not even bothering to deny it. "And stubborn when it comes to going after what I want. That's exactly why girls love me."
The casual confidence in his voice should have annoyed me...
But somehow, on Max, it was different. It wasn't manipulative arrogance—it was just honest self-awareness. He knew what he had, knew how to use it, but there was no malice in it. No need to diminish others to feel powerful.
He came a little closer, closing the distance I'd tried to create, and I felt myself melting slowly. Like ice cream under the summer sun, my resolve dissolving inch by inch.
His eyes traveled down from my face, along the column of my throat, lower to where my legs were pressed together.
I hadn't even realized I was doing it—squeezing my thighs together in an unconscious attempt to ease the building tension—but of course he noticed. Max noticed everything.
"Don't tell me you don't admire this about me," he said. "My confidence. My stubbornness. The way I rebel against everything and everyone to mark my own place in the world."
Of course, I did. God help me. Of course, I admired exactly those qualities. The way he refused to apologize for who he was, refused to dim himself to make others comfortable.
The way he went after what he wanted with single-minded determination. The way he stood up to his brother, to societal expectations, to anyone who tried to box him in.
It was something I was actively learning from him—how to be unapologetically myself, how to fight for what I wanted, how to stop shrinking to fit into spaces that were never meant for me anyway.
Max reached up and gently tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear, his fingers lingering against my skin in a touch so tender it made my breath catch.
Only then did I realize my hair had been falling across my face, prickling my eyes, and I'd been too overwhelmed to even notice. But he'd noticed. He always noticed.
"The way you look at me is intoxicating, Veronica," Max said, his voice dropping even lower, rougher, making my toes curl inside my heels. "Like you're trying to figure me out... Like you want to devour me and run away from me all at the same time. Like you're fighting yourself as much as you're fighting me."
His thumb traced along my jawline, and I couldn't suppress the shiver that ran through me at the contact.
"There are so many things I want to do with that smart mouth of yours," he continued, his eyes fixed on my lips with an intensity that made my knees weak. "That mouth that keeps challenging me, keeps pushing back, keeps saying things that make me want to either argue with you or kiss you until neither of us can think straight. If only you would allow me..."
I didn't know why I was literally feeling like I was flying.
Like gravity had released its hold, and I was floating somewhere above the dark highway, suspended at this moment of pure want and possibility and terrifying vulnerability.
It was getting hotter and hotter despite the cool night air. My skin felt feverish, my breath coming faster, my heart hammering so hard I was certain Max could feel it where his hand rested against my neck.
"Whenever you're ready," Max said softly, his forehead coming to rest against mine in a gesture that felt impossibly intimate.
"Whenever you want this—want me—just tell me. I'm not going anywhere. I'm not going to pressure you or manipulate you or make you feel like you owe me anything. This happens if and when you decide you want it to happen. Your choice. Your timeline. Your rules."
But then as he turned his back to leave, exposing all of his tattoos, I was already feeling the ache of his absence on my skin where his hands were before.
That's ridiculous, he was right there five feet ahead of me... yet, I was missing him already.
He was right about me... I was really turned on. Wanting him so deeply inside me that I wanted to become a part of him.
"Max..." I went to him, held his hand. "Wait..."
Then he turned to see me, eyes full of raw desire for me. And wrapped myself over his bare torso again...
My body, my mind, my soul... everything was fully aligned with him... that I couldn't even think of anything else, expect for him... and only him, and he lifted me up in his sturdy arms and placed me in the backseat of his high-end sports cars.