Page 6 of Big Bold Gambler

“I do mean it.” He stares at me with a look in his eyes I can’t quite put words to. “More than I’ve ever meant anything before in my life.”

“Can I–” I murmur, shaking my head, my heart pounding in my chest as he takes a step closer to me. “There’s more I want to show you.”

“Please,” he says as he continues to approach.

Maxwell follows me to the closet where I’ve stowed away the self-portraits and more vulnerable pieces. I decide on the representation of my loneliness. It functions as a bit of a self-portrait as well. A form that’s supposed to be me stands in the middle of the canvas, a vast landscape in dark colors surrounding her.

“This is…” I start, turning it around and searching for the words to describe the piece before I settle on, “It’s more personal than the others.”

Maxwell takes his time looking at it, getting close as he observes each minute detail. At first he seems a little confused, trying to put together exactly what he’s seeing in his mind. Then, when he picks up on the fact that the only other living things I’ve depicted are far away from the girl in the center, realization dawns on him.

“It’s gorgeous.” His voice is soft as his hand twitch at his side. “Heartbreaking, but beautiful.”

“Yeah,” I whisper, closing my eyes as he continues to appraise the work.

“I like what you’ve done with the colors,” Maxwell continues, apparently not finished complimenting me. “Using only bright ones on the subject really draws the eye to her, but when you look closer, you see butterflies and birds that share similar hues.”

“I’m surprised you caught that detail.”

“I’ve taken an art class or two in my time,” he replies, the earnestness of his tone enticing me to look at him again. “You seem surprised.”

“I guess I am,” I admit. “I just didn’t take you as…”

“As someone with an appreciation for art?” he finishes, raising an eyebrow and chuckling good-naturedly. “I’m sure there are a lot of things about me that would surprise you, Jeannie.”

“I wish I could say the same thing about myself,” I sigh, leaning the canvas against the wall. “Honestly, what you see is what you get with me.”

“I’m sure that’s not true,” he replies, closing the distance between us.

We’re so close that we’re breathing the same air. My brain goes blank, and my body freezes. There’s a glint in Maxwell’s eye that tells me he knows what he’s doing to me. It’s charming and disarming all at once.

“There’s so much about you I don’t know yet,” he says, voice low as his palm comes up to cup my cheek. “There are probably things you don’t even know about yourself.”

I don’t get time to formulate a response before he’s pulling me into a soft, tentative kiss. His lips are plush as they hesitantly slide against mine. When I reciprocate, returning his affection with unpracticed enthusiasm, he kisses me harder.

With a sigh, I grab onto his elbows, using them to anchor myself in this moment. His solid body beneath my fingertips reminds me that this isreal, that Maxwell is here and kissing me. Still, my head swims.

His tongue grazes the seam of my lips, and I squeak into his mouth. He takes the opportunity to lick into my mouth, pulling another surprised sound out of me. It takes me a moment to react, pressing my own tongue against his.

Maxwell groans, a low noise that vibrates through me all the way down to my core. His hands start drifting lower, his fingertips caressing my neck and shoulders. Then, they slide to my sides, his touch finally settling on my hips. His mouth becomes even more insistent upon mine.

“Wait,” I say after another moment when it becomes apparent that things are starting to progress. “I–”

“Too much?” he asks, starting to step away. I tighten my hold on him to keep him in place.

“No, no,” I reply, chuckling at the words I’m about to say. “I just thought you should know that I’ve never done this with anyone before. I’m not really sure what to do.”

“You’re a virgin?” He squeezes my hips. “Nowthat’sa surprise.”

“It shouldn’t be,” I murmur. “I don’t really get out all that much, and you know how my dad is.”

“Well, we can stop if you need to,” Maxwell says, his voice soothing and laced with understanding. “I didn’t mean to push you.”

“You aren’t pushing me,” I say quickly. “I want this. I want whatever you’re willing to give me.”

Instead of responding verbally, he kisses me again. This time, it’s full of hunger and desire. My knees go weak, and I do all thatI can to return his passion, my panties starting to feel damp as he practically eats me alive.

While I’m distracted by his mouth, his thumbs hook into my jeans. He slides them along the waistband, stopping at the button. With a quick movement, he opens them up, sliding the zipper down and shoving his hand inside.

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