Turbulence [𝗠.𝗩.]

▪ France, Summer Shutdown, Day Four ▪

@danielricciardo getting pelted with snowballs after his last tweet - @JamesWebb

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FRANCE
SUMMER SHUTDOWN
AUGUST

The thimble is placed on Bow Street. I grin evilly at Logan, hand coming out, palm up.

"HA! PAY ME!" Sucker. I have a plan to get hotels on that property as fast as I can. I love nabbing the orange properties quickly. It's my guaranteed strategy for Monopoly. I don't have all of them yet - Max has Vine Street - but I'm going to get it from him because I have Fleet Street, which he needs to fill his monopoly on the red properties.

Logan counts out the fourteen he owes me, placing it in my hand with an overdramatic sigh as I give him a similar energy with my Thank you!

"You're lucky you didn't land on the train station." James points out. He's not wrong. Mick has snapped up two of them already, and that would've been more costly for Logan.

Max takes the dice, rolling them. He moves his piece - the cat - past GO!. Yuki grabs the two hundred - he's banker for us, since he didn't want to get too involved, given how competitive James and I were sounding before we even started. He passes it to Max as the cat is placed on one of the light blue properties that Mick owns... but can't claim any rent for because he mortgaged it to get out of jail two turns ago.

"So I can buy a house now, right? Or make trades?" Max asks, looking directly at me. I'm sat next to him, our legs touching, but not all curled up with him for the sake of not making others uncomfortable.

"Yeah... Why? Gonna give me my orange back?"

"It's not yours, Jess!" James huffs.

"The oranges are always mine!" I give him my best pointed look before Max holds up the card in question. He's teasing me with it, the bastard.

"What is it worth to you?" He asks with a glint in his eye and a smirk upon his lips. Everyone starts jeering. Poor Mick chokes on his drink.

"I dunno..." I play coy. "Do you like breathing?"

"Wow." Logan has a wide-eyed stare. "You weren't joking. She's vicious."

"Anyone won yet?" Daniel calls out from the other side of the room. He didn't want to play, because he's boring and wanted to spend the evening calling his girlfriend.

"No!" We all shout.

"Anyway." Max waves the card in front of me. "What's this worth to you?"

"I'll give you this." I snatch up the Fleet Street card that's been sat in front of me, flashing it to him.

Max chuckles, shaking his head. "No, not that."

I feel pins and needles creep up my neck. He's looking at me like that again. The lighting of the fire opposite us makes his eyes glint with a sense of wickedness that matches the way he looked at me only days ago in his home. I know that's what he's doing, and the worst part is: it's working. I feel uncomfortable now, with the awareness that I'm sitting in front of everyone, and I can see how his eyes flick down my body before making contact with mine again.

James coughs loudly. "Ahem. PDA, you two."

Everyone laughs as I go bright red and hide my face with a hand. "Fuck off! He started it!"

The laughter echoes around the open-plan living space of the cabin, and I give Max my best glare, but it's marred by the smile on my face that's a nervous tick. He doesn't take it seriously, placing the card back down before reaching around with his hand to pull me into his side. I feel my momentary stress melt away as I relax into his gentle embrace.

Mick rolls the dice, getting to another unclaimed train station.

"Oh, come on!" James shouts in frustration whilst Oscar laughs at him.

The game ends early for me, because Mick manages to get the last train station a turn before I land on it. I could have mortgaged my properties, but then I would've only delayed my defeat by one or two turns. Max didn't help himself by refusing to trade with me; he lost a few turns after. As the Monopoly set is put away, and the laughter from the game still echoes in the cabin, I excuse myself to get to bed. We're going to have another long day of hitting the slopes tomorrow, and I need the rest.

Max, however, has other ideas.

I don't make it to the en-suite as I'm planning to; his hands are on my waist, twirling me around to face him. I'm manhandled against a wall. The cold, varnished wood bites through my shirt. My brain completely short-circuits as his hands slip under my shirt, to my waist, whilst his lips attack mine with that same desperation he had days ago.

My hands find their way to his hair. His breath is hot against my lips, his tongue darts out to graze over my lips. I can't think, only act as he crushes himself against me, hooking a hand under my leg, to pull it up. My leg raises without needing further prompting; his lips leave mine to trail to my neck. The stubble adorning his jaw brushes against my skin as electricity fires through my body.

Teeth attack my neck without warning. I feel air leave my lungs in an unexpected gasp, a noise trying to follow out—

I can't make a sound. We're not alone. But god is it hard to keep the sounds that want to escape strangled in my throat. I've somehow ended up with my legs wrapped around his waist; his hands are firmly pulling my hips flush to him. His teeth are biting and bruising my pale skin, moving to my collarbone. His hot, heavy breaths make me shudder—

Max stops abruptly, swearing breathlessly. He's reached the same awareness I have. We can't. Not here.

"Fuck!" He hisses, head against my shoulder, chest heaving.

I should extract myself from him. I don't want to. Whatever hesitance I had has gone. It's been gone for a few days now. I want more.

But we shouldn't.

A soft kiss is pressed to my aching neck. I don't have the decency to hide my whimper.

"Don't." He warns softly, lips still lightly grazing my neck. I dare to pull with my legs at his hips; he hisses again, fingers digging into my hips. "Jess."

There's no softness in his voice. It's a firm warning.

"You started it." I whisper, still as breathless as he is. I don't want to catch my breath. But I do. Fuck. I'm torn in two: awareness and lust.

Awareness wins out, for both of us. He gently holds me as I reluctantly let go, unhooking my ankles to let him back off. I need his help for a few seconds to stay upright, because my legs feel useless and wobbly. The dark tint to his eyes hasn't faded, and I'm sure my pupils are still wide. We move into an embrace, arms around each other, trying to regain control of ourselves.

"When we get back home..." He mumbles with a hint of something wild in his voice. "I'll finish it."