Page 11 of Awakening Anna

Chapter Six

Anna sobered immediately. “What problem?”

Max raised one brow and trailed a finger along the neckline of her dress. “You're still wearing clothes. That isn’t fair when I'm lying here in my birthday suit.”

Anna grinned. “I like your birthday suit. It's very sexy.” Then she looked down to her dress. “But you do have a point. Any ideas how we can fix this?”

“Allow me,” he said, switching their positions and making short work of her buttons.

In no time, the dress was once again open to her waist, the feat accomplished with only one hand. As the dress fell apart, Max's lips found more and more exposed skin. He kissed the top of her right breast where it swelled over the cup of her bra, then his tongue dipped down to lick her nipple, igniting her body with fierce longing.

Anna needed something to do with her hands, so she slid the right one into Max's hair while the other went to help with the buttons.

“No, you don't,” he said, locking her wrists together above her head. “It's my turn.”

With the final button undone, he pushed the dress completely open, raising goosebumps along her flesh.

“Now,” he said, lathing one nipple while holding her gaze, “tell me about page two hundred twenty-seven.”

Anna didn’t need a mirror to know her entire body blushed. Reading erotic sex scenes was one thing. Describing them aloud to a man she barely knew, regardless of the fact they’d just exchanged mind-blowing orgasms, was something altogether different.

As a means of deflection, she said, “Don’t be silly. You clearly don’t need instruction from a romance novel.”

Switching from a lick to a bite, he said, “Tell me.”

Verna would pay for this. Their next selection would be something much tamer. No hero taking anyone against a wall.

“The scene is about trust,” Anna said. “About giving up control and focusing on nothing but pleasure.”

“I like it so far.” Shifting his weight, Max rose above her, pinning her hips to the bed with his own, while keeping her wrists locked above her head. “Especially the pleasure part. Now for specifics.”

“I’m not sure I’m ready for the specifics,” she said, wishing he’d let the topic go. “I don’t even know you that well.”

Stilling, Max stared into her eyes as if he could see into her soul. She’d never been good at hiding her thoughts, which meant he could likely see every doubt and insecurity running through her mind.

A moment before she looked away, one side of his mouth lifted into a half grin as he freed her hands. “My name is Maxwell Alexander Cambridge. Marshall is my pen name and my mother’s maiden name. I was born in San Francisco, and raised in Berkley. My birthday is July twenty-first, I prefer bourbon to scotch, and am a staunch supporter of the Oxford comma.” Pausing to drop a kiss between her breasts, he added, “Does that help?”

Now she had no excuse not to tell him. With a sigh, Anna said, “I need you to let me up.”

Concern crossed his features as Max shifted to the side. Without explanation, she crawled off the bed, clutching the dress tightly closed, and crossed the distance to her dresser, where she withdrew three thin slips of fabric from the top drawer before padding back to the bed.

Climbing to the center of the mattress, she curled her legs to the side as she dropped the material in front of Max. “We’ll need these.”

He toyed with the strips of silk but remained silent.

“In the scene on page two hundred twenty-seven,” Anna explained, “the heroine can’t tell the hero what she likes because she doesn’t know. Only her pride won’t let her admit that part. Thankfully, the hero figures it out and comes up with a plan. In order to heighten her senses, he blindfolds her. Then, to urge her to tell him what feels good, and what feels even better, he binds her hands to the bed. Being as the hero is a police officer, they use handcuffs, but I don’t have any of those lying around.”

Through the entire explanation, Anna kept her eyes on the pastel shades of the scarves. If the scene hadn’t hit so close to home, she might have been able to brave a look at Max’s face, but as it was, her voice alone revealed enough.

When the silence grew deafening, Max lifted her chin with one finger. “Are you sure about this?”

Anna nodded.

“Then scoot up to the pillows,” he said, his voice firm but gentle.

With a shiver of anticipation and no small amount of fear, Anna crawled up to the headboard and settled between the pillows. Max draped one scarf around her neck before securing first her right wrist to wrought iron headboard, then her left. Nudging her knees apart, he settled between her thighs and said, “Close your eyes.”

She did as ordered, receiving a kiss on each eyelid as reward. “Trust me, Anna.”

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