Becoming His by Mariah Dietz

The only sounds are our slightly labored breaths and the quiet stream of the radio as we steal glances of one another. Our eyes lock and something passes between us as we both realize the line we’re about to cross. Nerves and excitement course through me since we’re going at least twenty over the speed limit. The practical side of me wants to tell him to slow down as the needle edges higher, but my lips refuse to utter the words.

Max pulls into the driveway. I quickly undo my seat belt and open my door, sliding out in one fluid motion. Max is beside me in the blink of an eye with the most smoldering look in his eyes. After reading so many books, I’ve often wondered if it was possible to communicate a desire with just a look, and I know in this moment it is.

I reach forward and slide my arms around Max’s neck, pulling myself flush against his chest, and kiss him with all of the heat, passion, and desire that’s been swirling around inside of me for what feels like an eternity. He responds instantly with a matching need, pressing my back against his Jeep. His hands glide along the bottom of my dress, slowly inching up my thighs until the dress restricts him from going any higher.

Gripping his hand in mine, I pull him toward the front door and take his keys from his loose fist and turn to unlock the door as his hands run over my dress. I finally manage to focus on the door long enough to open it, take the few steps required to get us in, and lock it behind us before turning to the staircase.

Anticipation races through me, as well as a burning sense of empowerment from the look that Max gives me confirming that he wants this too. I begin ascending the stairs, draping my hand over the banister for support, hoping that I look graceful rather than stiff like I feel.

I climb six stairs before I look over my shoulder to Max and pause. Reaching up to my hair, I remove the few pins and my hair tumbles around my shoulders and down my back. Max’s eyes fill with lust and desire, and yet I can see the determined look silently telling me we still have several weeks to wait.

Before his thoughts can progress, I brace myself against the railing and reach forward to take the tail of his tie between my fingers and gently tug on it, pulling him towards me before I drop it and saunter up the stairs, letting my hips sway. Max is behind me before I reach the top, his hands pressing against my lower stomach as we hit the landing.

We make it to his bedroom in a tangled mess of groping hands. I hear the door close, and briefly wonder how he managed to do so because his hands haven’t moved from running over every inch of my torso. I feel the wall at my back as I secure my hands in his shirt, pulling the last of it free from his jeans as I hungrily kiss him and feel his weight against me.

My fingers run through his short hair, and I feel something building inside of me that I need to translate. I attempt to by gently biting his bottom lip before pulling my head back, allotting myself enough space to release his tie. He allows me easy access, holding his chin high, as I loosen the knot. As I slip the silk from around his neck, he grazes my ear with his teeth, sending a current of heat and electricity through me that makes it difficult for my hands to focus on releasing the small buttons of his shirt.

Max kisses a path to my lips, and the silkiness of his tongue against mine causes my hands to falter as I momentarily lose all focus. His hands meet mine at the front of his shirt, and he gently moves them away before giving one harsh tug to his shirt, creating an echo of tinkling as the buttons scatter across the wood floor. Max pulls the shirt from his arms, exposing a tight white T-shirt that my hands instantly work to remove. I exert little energy before he reaches down and removes it.

“Max, I want you,” I whisper, staring into his cobalt eyes. They’ve become more heated and alive with want as they dance across my face.

I softly place my hand against his chest and lean forward, kissing him slowly; it’s a tantalizing kiss—a promise, an invitation.

I break away so I can turn around and pull my hair over my shoulder in a silent request to remove my dress. Warmth radiates from his body as he hovers behind me and my heart races. My fears and concerns of rejection whirl through me, making my palms sweat as the moment stretches. Suddenly I feel his lips trace along my spine as his hands settle against my back. He deftly unclasps the dress and lowers the zipper to my tailbone where it ends. I hear his breathing increase, becoming slightly ragged.

Digging my elbows into my sides, I securely hold the dress in place and quickly work to submerge my insecurities. I release my arms and the dress falls around my feet. I hear Max’s intake of breath as I stand in front of him, wearing nothing but a black lace thong and my black heels. My heart pounds so hard in my chest I fear he can hear it.

Slowly turning to face him, I feel a nervous energy course through me as I find his eyes burning into mine. “I need you Max,” I whisper, praying he won’t stop things this time. I don’t think I can take the rejection or humiliation … not when we’re this close.

Max presses his lips to mine, entwining his fingers in my hair. His other hand travels down my back, splaying over the lace of my panties, holding me firmly against him. I feel his chest warm against mine.

This isn’t the first time that I’ve been naked in front of Max; however the last time a lot of alcohol had been consumed and my inhibitions were practically nonexistent, along with my memories of that night. I feel him groan against my mouth, his hands tightening, sending me even further down this path of desire.

I kiss him fiercely, letting my hands travel across his bare shoulders on their own accord, traveling a slow path to the front of his jeans where I unlatch his belt and work to unbutton his jeans. I clutch the denim in my fists and shove them down. Max releases his vise grip and steps out of his shoes without breaking our kiss, then folds each of his legs behind him to remove his socks. He takes a step back and pulls his jeans off, standing before me in a pair of black boxer briefs. I watch as his chest rises and falls with his breaths.

I know without a doubt that I will never forget the way I feel in this moment, or the look in Max’s eyes.

My heart races as I bend my knee, lifting my foot behind me so I can slide my heel off before doing the same with my other shoe, letting them both fall to the ground as Max and I keep our eyes trained on one another, wearing nothing but our underwear. Max takes a step closer to me, kissing me so softly that it concerns me.

“We can wait—”

I kiss him hard, cutting off his protest, and push him toward the bed. Thankfully that’s all the encouragement he seems to need.

He swiftly lifts me, laying me on the bed with a gentleness that doesn’t seem humanly possible. His eyes travel the full length of my body several times as he stands over me, his fingers softly trailing down my body, stopping on my hips. He hooks his index fingers through the black lace, and slides them down my legs, dropping them to the ground.

“God you’re beautiful, Ace.” His voice is quiet as his eyes rake up my body, stopping when he reaches my gaze.

I feel my lips tug up in a small smile. “You’re beautiful,” I whisper. Reaching out, I thread my fingers with his and pull him toward me. He releases my hand and climbs up beside me, holding my cheek as he begins kissing me, slowly, lightly. I stop myself from deepening the kiss, waiting for him to get comfortable and take the lead. His hand slowly runs from my cheek down my neck and over my breast, where it stops. My back instantly arches from the bed as I try to push myself further against his hand, needing to feel the pressure.

His kiss becomes harsher, rougher, as a growl escapes his lips, and I squirm as heat floods between my legs—a constant pulsating need that leaves my body tingling in anticipation. Max’s fingers gently massage my nipple, tugging and kneading my breast as my breathing becomes more ragged. He pulls his lips from mine, and his mouth replaces his fingers as his hand slowly trails down my abdomen to the inner edge of my thigh before running back up to the apex of my inner thigh and then down the inside of my other leg. The sensation makes my hips surge off of the bed as I grip Max’s back.

“Max.” The words leave me, sounding like a groan and a plea.

A small grunt escapes him as he skims his nose along my jaw. His mouth lifts from my breast, and I tug his face to mine, pressing my lips to his to express my need. Slowly, his finger slides back up my thigh and inside of me, and I feel Max’s lips press harder against mine as my hips rise to meet him and a loud moan escapes my lips.

After a few moments of pure ecstasy that leaves me feeling breathless and dazed, Max sits up and reaches over to his nightstand. I watch his chest rise and fall as he pulls a condom from the drawer. He brings it to his mouth and rips it open with his teeth before reaching down between us.

He peers down at me and runs his tongue along his lips, his eyes focused on mine as I reach up to pull him back down to me. I lift my face to meet him and kiss him again, feeling my growing addiction to Max hit an all-time high. He places a hand on either side of my shoulders and slowly lowers himself into me. I gasp and my fingers grasp his sides, digging into his clenched muscles as I continue to stare up into his eyes, working to prevent myself from saying something I won’t be able to take back.

Sex with Max is slightly painful and a little awkward as my brain occasionally attempts to decipher what I should or shouldn’t be doing, but it’s also exhilarating and enormously fulfilling.

Afterward, Max lies stretched out on his side with me firmly pressed to his front so we’re facing one another. He trails kisses along my forehead and nose, down to my mouth, replacing hungry kisses from moments ago with soft tender kisses as his fingers trace up and down my back.

Max climbs off of the bed and returns with a wet washcloth. I quickly sit up and mumble a few awkward words before escaping to the bathroom to clean myself up, grateful that I have my overnight bag in here. I pull on some clean underwear and pajamas and lean against the counter as I catch sight of myself in the mirror. My cheeks are flushed and my eyes are bright as I soak in my appearance. I’ve never thought of myself as being particularly attractive, especially compared to my sisters, but in this moment I feel beautiful.

I find Max changing the sheets when I come back out and feel completely mortified for a brief moment before he stops and turns to me, wearing a pair of sweatpants hanging low on his hips. I swallow a joke about the fact that I obviously hadn’t slept with Pedro when Max crushes his lips to mine and runs a hand through my hair.

“God, you’re perfect.” He presses a soft kiss to my forehead before he lifts me up and carries me to the bed where we wrap around each other in a tight tangle of limbs.

 

Afew hours later I wake up to find Max pacing across the wooden floors of his bedroom. A nervous panic rolls up my spine. He looks troubled and frustrated. I debate whether I should let him know I’m awake, or pretend that I’m asleep as fear resonates within me.

Before I can decide, his eyes sweep over to me and he stops, mid step. I slowly sit up, letting the sheet fall, revealing my black tank top. “What’s wrong?” I ask quietly as my heart thrums.

“Everything,” Max responds, rubbing a hand down his face.

Fear grips me as rejection and anger sear through my veins. Thoughts and realizations form faster than I can process or stop them.

I feel his eyes on me as I close the bathroom door and swiftly dress. My brain warns me of a silent countdown taking place, alerting me that I need to get out of here before the emotions I vigilantly work to keep suppressed burst. I wrench the door open, holding my bag, and throw my clutch inside before striding to the bedroom door without looking back at Max.

I’m nearly down the entire flight of stairs before he catches up to me.

“What are you doing?” he asks, grabbing my arm. I don’t turn to look at him as I jerk my arm free and make my way to Jameson’s room. I scrape my fist against the door.

“Ace, what the hell?” Max demands, reaching for my arm again. Before he can touch me I move further to the side and bang against the door with more force.

Jameson opens the door, his eyes half closed with sleep. He runs a hand over his messy blond hair, looking confused.

“Is Kendall in there?”

“Ace?” I hear her voice filled with panic. “What’s wrong? What’s going on?”

“I just need my keys.”

“I’ll come with you,” she says, throwing back the covers.

“No, stay. I need to think,” I reply, mostly to myself. Kendall nods, looking reluctant, and I move my focus to her hands as she fishes through her purse.

I tightly grip the keys as she gives them to me and turn back to the door where Jameson stands, looking completely dumbfounded. I make a wide berth around him and Max and head straight for the front door.

Another door opens behind me, and I hear Landon ask if everything’s okay. Tears pool in my eyes as I run the last few steps out of the house, barefoot. The fact that Max doesn’t follow me past Jameson’s bedroom door answers my fear. This was a mistake. We were a mistake.

The anger that had kept the tears at bay while inside the house quickly recedes to pain as the countdown continues to fall and tears stream down my face. Traces of dark eye makeup cover my fingers and the back of my hands as I swipe at the relentless tears.

I don’t even think. My brain is on autopilot, needing comfort and security. I’m already on the freeway, heading toward the only destination that can meet those needs. Home.

 

Isilently make my way into the house and disarm the alarm, but Zeus isn’t about to let me go unnoticed. He lumbers down the stairs, barking before he even sees me. My voice is thick with tears as I call to him, trying to calm him down.

Dad flips on the lights, following closely behind Zeus, wearing his robe over a San Diego State T-shirt and matching sweatpants. When he sees me his concern is evident and my countdown hits zero. He wraps me in his arms and my shoulders heave as I grip his robe with both hands to keep myself upright. I bury my face in the soft polyester and feel him take my weight.

“David, what’s going on?” Mom asks, coming down the stairs. Neither of us responds as she rushes over and soothingly rubs my back.

“Ace, what happened, sweetheart? Did someone hurt you? Are you okay?”

I sniff and nod, not able to formulate words yet. Each time I try to speak, the words seem to get caught in my throat and I just cry harder.

After about twenty minutes of my mom bustling about, offering different remedies and trying to coax me to speak to her, Dad convinces her to go back to bed.

He holds me, allowing me to cry until my head throbs and my eyes burn. I feel exhausted, both physically and emotionally, as he wraps an arm around my shoulders and pulls me into his chest, shielding me as he leads me into the kitchen.

He reaches into the cabinet above the fridge and extracts an amber bottle and pours two fingers in a glass tumbler before retrieving a bottle of ibuprofen. Three pills fall into my palm and he hands me the glass. I don’t hesitate, swallowing it all in one toss and wincing at the burn of bourbon.

He fills my now empty cup up with water, and we wordlessly trudge up the stairs.

“Il sera bien ma belle fille,” Dad says quietly when we reach the top of the stairs. I want to acknowledge his words that everything will be okay, but I don’t. I can’t.

“Do you want me to stay with you? Or you can lie with mom?” I shake my head, needing some space. “Je t’aime mon, Ace,” he says quietly.

“I love you too, Dad,” I whisper. He hugs me close, placing a kiss in my hair before he watches me turn into my room.

I gather some clean pajamas and head to the bathroom where I turn the shower on and wait for it to get hot enough that the steam billows out. I strip out of my clothes, noticing a small trace of blood on my underwear, and kick them aside, making a new rivulet of tears to fall. I step in the tub, letting the hot water flow over me, joining my tears as I begin washing Max from my body.

 

 

The next day I wake up with a dull headache that feels worse than any hangover and find Zeus lying in front of my bed protectively and my mom holding a tray filled with food.

“Daddy thought some chocolate chip pancakes might sound good. I thought maybe some ice cream would be preferable,” she says with a weak smile, running a hand over my hair. I take in the stack of chocolate chip pancakes, cold and without syrup—the way I prefer them—along with a container of Ben and Jerry’s and a steaming cup of coffee. None of it appeals to me, but I rip off a small piece of pancake and swallow it to placate her.

“Max came by this morning. He said that there was a misunderstanding.” My heart races at the mention of his name, filling with hope until I recall he was already planning on coming home this weekend to get his motorcycle and is likely trying to clear the air between us since our mothers are best friends, and my sister is dating his best friend.

I shake my head and take a sip of coffee.

“You know, sometimes you have to listen to your heart and block out this,” my mom says, gently tapping my temple with a pink, perfectly manicured finger.

“I have to go to a meeting, but I’ll be back later this afternoon. If you need anything call me, sweetheart.” I nod and gently set the tray on the floor as she leaves.

I lay my head back down and close my eyes which feel weighted.

 

Raised voices echo from downstairs, waking me. I sit up to see Zeus stand from his spot beside my bed. His nails click on the stairs as he goes to investigate, and I strain my ears to listen.

“Dad, he needs to talk to her.” Kendall’s agitated voice is easy to make out.

“I don’t know what’s going on right now; but I do know that she came home in the middle of the night and …” He stops and I know he’s protecting my outburst from last night and feel eternally grateful. He starts again in a calmer voice. “I’ve never seen her like that, Kendall. If he’s the reason she’s hurting I don’t even want him in my house.”

“I know how this looks, and I’m pretty sure I am the reason she’s upset, but I need to fix it. She took something I said out of context, and I really need to see her. Please. If she tells me to go I’ll leave.”

My eyes grow from shock at hearing Max’s voice and anxiously wait for my dad’s response. I want to see Max, but I also dread the prospect.

My head falls to my pillows, my hair splaying as I internally fight with myself and the eternal war of heart versus head as I smother myself with another pillow so I can’t hear any more of their conversation.

 

When I wake up again my room is dark from the night. I blink a few times trying to rid the scratchiness from my eyes and turn over to see what time it is. A solid object covers my feet, and I expect to see Zeus. A gasp fills the silence as I jump, realizing it’s a person. I scramble backwards, nearly falling off the side of my bed, before realizing that it’s Max.

My legs instinctively fold against my chest. Although I’m fully dressed, I feel extremely vulnerable and exposed. My poor heart begins racing again as I feel the adrenaline course through my veins, my palms prickling with sweat as I wrap them around my legs.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,” Max says quietly, holding his hands out to me like I’m a wild animal, unsure of whether I’ll attack or run.

“What are you doing here, Max?” I try to sounds defensive, but my voice comes out strained.

“You left your phone, and your dad wouldn’t let me talk to you.”

I shake my head. “What are you doing here?” I repeat.

“Ace, last night was a mistake.”

“Yeah, I understood that message loud and clear,” I state coldly as my chest begins to ache and the familiar burn of tears returns.

“No, Ace, you aren’t understanding.” Max says. He reaches forward, touching my hand briefly before I rip it away and glare at him.

“Ace, please listen to me. I wanted last night to happen. Hell, I’ve wanted last night to happen for years, but it wasn’t supposed to happen like that! I felt so disappointed and frustrated with myself and with you because I’ve been thinking about that moment for so long. Planning out how to make every detail perfect, and last night wasn’t it. Nothing went like it was supposed to.”

Before I can stop it, a small part of me feels elation and hope surfacing, accompanied by pain at hearing disappointment and not supposed to. I move my eyes up to him, refusing to talk, not trusting myself or my emotions.

“This isn’t coming out right,” he says with a sigh. I watch his hand run over his hair a few times before wiping down the front of his face.

“Ace, I care about you, a lot,” he says, looking at me like this should offer me clarity. I tilt my head slightly, focusing on his words, as I try to listen with both my head and my heart. “I can’t stop fucking thinking about you.” Max’s eyes are wide as they search mine. “It’s not that us sleeping together was a mistake. You were perfect. I just wanted it to be perfect for you.”

Slowly, I start piecing the last twenty-four hours together with a new perspective.

“I didn’t want last night to happen like it did. I wanted it to be the most romantic night of your life. I wanted to have flowers and music and tell you how important you are to me.” I feel the vise wrapped around me slowly release. “Please say something,” Max whispers.

I push off the covers and crawl toward him, stopping when there’s only a few inches left between our bodies. “Last night was the single most romantic night of my life thus far because of what happened, Max. It was being with you that made last night special.” I hesitantly reach out and set my hand on his.

“I am head over heels for you, Max, but if you—”

Max grabs my face between his hands and before I’m able to finish my threat, He presses his lips to mine with a sense of need.

I kiss him back as the fear and heartbreak seep away with every second.

“You should go home. Come back tomorrow and kiss me like that once I’ve showered, dressed, and my hair doesn’t look like a rat’s nest,” I say, leaning my forehead against his shoulder, breathing in his warm scent.

“You have no idea how beautiful you are,” Max replies, moving his body and holding my face so that we’re face to face. “I just need to be with you right now. You scare the hell out of me when you run.”

I nod in understanding. Max has told me about his father leaving one night and never returning. I feel the same desire to be close to him. Max pulls me down so we’re lying with our faces mere inches apart.

“I’m sorry for my reaction. You were so perfect and amazing. I was just caught up in my anger. And then you ran, and I didn’t know what to do.”

“You look tired,” I whisper, stroking his unshaven face.

He nods and pulls me closer so my head rests on his shoulder. I wrap my arms around his chest and bury myself into him.

“You have to stop running from me,” Max whispers in my hair. “I’m not letting you go.” He squeezes me once more and warmth floods me.

Soon the sound of Max’s soft breaths and the even beats of his heart lull me into a peaceful sleep.