Sorry everybody about me not updating. But I have my reasons! Fanfiction is a HOBBY! It is what I like to do in the little spare time that I have. And recently my life has been CRAZY! I don't have any time to relax and write. All of my spare time goes to sleeping. So I am hoping you can all understand that! But thank you for continuously checking for updates and leaving reviews even though they all weren't the nicest reviews. So this chapter might not be that great, but I don't really think you guys care that much, just as long as I update and you all know I'm still here.

I know this chapter might be a little abrupt because of the time it's been since you read a newly updated chapter, but just letting you all know, this is where I was going with it all along!

Fang's POV:

I didn't want to leave my parents' house when the day came, and neither did Max. She made that perfectly clear when her arms continued to linger around my mom. It was the longest hug I had ever witnessed.

She continued to say it was the best Thanksgiving she had ever had. Even though I knew she wasn't talking only about the dinner and my family. We got slightly rambunctious on that twin mattress that was leading to something I had dreamt of every night. She made me stop after she made a very feminine noise that just made me forget more and more about my family in the other rooms (none of them right next to ours thank the lord).

I was thrilled to have given her something that had meant so much (Thanksgiving speaking). She still looked happy, even in her sleep. Her head tilted against the headrest of the passenger seat, eyes closed, a soft smile on her lips. I watched her for a few seconds before looking back at the road ahead of me.

A few minutes later, I stole another quick glance in her direction. She exhaled quickly, and rolled her head. She pushed her shoulders forward and I don't know if I had imagined it, but almost a sigh escaped her lips. A sigh that sounded very…nice.

My gaze dropped to her chest and I watched it rise and fall heavily, then heavier…and heavier. She woke with a start and my head snapped forward before she knew I was watching.

Max's POV:

About an hour after my…dream, we pulled into my empty driveway. My dad was supposed to come back from his business trip in the morning. I looked over at Fang in the drivers' seat. He watched me. I felt like he knew what I was dreaming, he was acting strange.

"Well," he started, "we're here."

"Do you want to stay the night?" I asked. "And you can go to work in the morning form here. You have a bunch of clothes in the trunk." I reminded him.

He quirked his right brow. "Sure…" he looked at me with a question in his gaze. But he stayed silent as he got out of the car, got both of our luggage and we made our way into the house.


He watched me, from my bed, as I put my clothes in my dresser, folding them each individually.

"What are you looking at?" I finally turned and asked him, hands on my hips. I was a little defensive.


I wiped my bangs out of my face. I was getting a little uneasy. That dream was embarrassing, and I had a feeling he knew. But he wasn't acting cocky. If he had seen the dream from my eyes, he would probably be strutting around the house. "I'm taking a shower."

Before he could respond, I closed the door behind me. I looked at myself in the mirror. Should I finally do it tonight? He would probably be expecting it after what I unconsciously did in the car. No, he didn't even know that that had happened. He has no idea. Maybe I should finally have sex with him because he had been so patient since we first started dating. Or maybe I should just do it because I want to. I've been wanting to. And I know he has too. Well I hope he has too.

After I showered I put on my pajamas like usual. Then I stood there and listened for him in my bedroom. I couldn't hear snoring so he wasn't asleep. But I couldn't hear anything else. So what was he doing?

I opened the door and walked into my room. He lay on top of the sheets on my bed, his hands behind his head, and his eyes open. He turned to look at me, with his dark eyes.

"Better?" He asked.

I nodded, too shy to talk.

I walked to the light switch and flicked it off. I made my way to my bed in the dark. He started to fiddle with the sheets as he tried to get underneath them. He thought we were going to sleep.

"Fang," I whispered, grabbing his wrist, stopping him from pulling down the sheets.

"Hm?" he mumbled, his eyes wide, curious.

I brought my other hand up and pushed his shoulder back down, laying him flat on his back. He obliged. I climbed onto the bed and put myself atop of him. I sat on his midsection and brought my hands to his chest. His eyes widened even more.

"Are we finishing what we started this weekend?" he asked, eyes locked with mine; his expression full of anticipation.

I nodded slowly. "And what I started in the car."

He smiled. Now he was cocky. He put his hands on my hips and smiled warmly. He jerked his hips upward, as if he was a bull, sending me flying to his chest. "Okay then," he whispered in my ear. His lips started munching on my neck, and in an instant, I was alive.

Kissing started moaning, which started groaning, which led to exploring. I pulled him into a sitting position and stripped his shirt from his body. My fingertips padded along his chest, between his nipples, and to his abs. My kisses followed my fingers. The lower I went the stiller he became. He finally lay back down, flat on his back. His eyes glossed over as he played with my hair.

The instant I got my hands on the button of his jeans, he jumped. His abs flexed and goose bumps blanketed his arms. His fingers stilled in my hair. I unzipped them slowly, but before I got the chance to pull them down, he sat up, righting me along with him. He kissed my face, everywhere as he found the hem of my pajama shirt. He started to raise it, but as soon as it reached my bellybutton, I broke away, breathing heavy.

"I don't have anything under this," I spoke, breathing against his lips as I watched him in the dark. He was different. He was calmer than usual, decisive, watching, calculating. He was in his element.

"I know."

We stayed still for a moment, until my hands found his and I helped him pull my shirt over my head. I watched his face as he looked at me. His jaw hung about a centimeter, which I knew was a lot for Fang. I flattened my forehead against his and wrapped my arms around his neck as his hands roamed endlessly. His head dropped from my lips, down to my neck, below my clavicle, and started to fiddle with places I never let a guy touch me before.

I lost myself as I helped him out of his pants that he needed so badly to get out of. I made noises I had never made before as he hovered above me; playing.

I closed my eyes as his lips found the hem of my sweatpants. As he started to pull them down, he froze.

I waited for him to continue but he didn't. I opened my eyes and looked down at him. "What?" I asked, more breathless than I had been earlier.

"I don't have a condom." He spoke sorrowfully, seeming to think about it for the first time tonight. "Fuck." He cursed, dropping his forehead on my stomach.

"You don't have one in your wallet?" I asked skeptically.

"No, I don't have one in my wallet. When I started dating you, I knew I was going to have to wait, so I just took it out."

"Well can you go get one?" I practically begged.

"I can't wait that long," he groaned. This seemed to be the worst thing to happen to him in his life.

"Well…" I knew it was the stupidest thing any person in the world could say, but I said it anyways, "we don't have to use a condom. Do we?"

He looked up at me, eyes huge. "Yes. We do."

"Can't you like…" I trailed off, trying to find any way that would allow us to do this. I wanted him so bad.

"No…" he sighed, trying to calm his body. "We can't do this." He seemed to be arguing with himself. I guess it is always the girl who makes sure the guy wears a condom, but in this case he was being the responsible one.

My body was craving him. I wasn't being reasonable. But I wanted him. I whimpered almost as I was about to ask him again. He covered my mouth with his hand. "Don't ask again, because I'll give in," he warned.

In that instant as I was about to ask…again, we both heard the front door open.

"Someone's in the house," I said against Fang's mouth. His eyes were locked on my bedroom door.

"Max?" A man's voice called quietly.

"It's my dad!" I practically screeched. I pushed Fang off of me and he fell from the bed onto the floor, thankfully landing quietly. He ran to the corner of the room where I threw his shirt, and tried to turn it right side out.

"Pants first! What are you doing!" I almost screamed at him. Every boy should be able to understand that a dad would be less angry if he found his daughter with a boy that had his shirt off than with his pants off.

He practically ripped his shirt in half tugging it over his head. He found his pants, along with my t-shirt, which he sent flying my way, as he jumped up and down pulling his pants over his legs. He didn't try fiddling with the zipper or button as he ran towards the closet, ready to slip into invisibility.

"What are you doing? Your car is in the driveway!" I reminded him in a screaming whisper.

He froze. "What do I do!"

"Come here!" I screamed, yet keeping my voice quiet. I held up the blankets and he dove into them. We composed ourselves like a couple would look, just sleeping, and not doing anything else. Oh my God I didn't want my dad to kill him.

The door creaked open. My dad would have noticed our heavy breathing if we hadn't held it. I hid my face in Fang's chest, and he hid his in my hair. I squeezed my eyes shut waiting for my dad to close the door, but his didn't. He was watching us. Close the door I need to breathe.

And after a few moments, he did. Fang and I let our breath out in a ragged exhale and quickly sucked back in. We breathed hard, trying to catch our breath.

"That was close. Way to close." I whispered. He nodded, squeezing me tight. "What the fuck is doing here!"

"Sh. Max I don't know. Just relax. He knows I'm here, and he's letting me stay. So let's just…calm down." He kissed my forehead.

"Thank you for saying no." I spoke softly, changing the subject.

He knew exactly what I was talking about. "I almost said yes." He murmured. "If you had asked me one more time I would have said yes. Never ask me to do that again. Please."

"I can't promise that," I smirked. He slid down to look me in the eye.

"Sex is supposed to be responsible. Not necessarily thought out…well not thought out at all…but responsible. And neither of us were being responsible."

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

"I'm sorry too." He breathed deeply and kissed me on the lips for a long moment. I couldn't help but smile. "Next time will be better. I promise. Now let's just go to bed and hope your dad doesn't change his mind and come up here and kill me."

"I love you Fang."

"I love you too Max."

Fang's POV:

The next morning I kissed Max goodbye early in the morning. Way before she had to get up. I quietly walked out of her room, leaving the lights off behind me, being silent, and hopping not to wake her up again. I had to go home, shower, eat, get ready and then head off to school. But something stopped me in my tracks.

I reached the bottom of the stair case, heading for the front door, until I saw her dad sitting at the table in the kitchen.

Fuck. Me.

I watched him, honestly afraid to say anything.

"Yeah I came home early because my company wanted me to go to a meeting this morning here." He spoke, knowing what I was thinking. He sipped his coffee and set it on the table in front of him.

I nodded slowly, still unsure of what to say.

"How many times have you stayed the night with her without me knowing?"

I chewed my lip and rubbed the back of my neck: the number one physical sign of guiltiness. But I did it anyway.

"Sit down," he said. I eyed the chair. I wasn't running late, but I definitely did not want to talk to him right now. I hated being guilty. And I probably couldn't take him. Well…actually it might be a pretty even fight. I saw his muscles under his shirt. His old strength against my new strength would make for a very even fight actually. Although, I don't think Max would like me fighting her dad. But I might have to because he looked like he wanted to deck me at the moment. Okay, stop thinking about fighting Max's dad.

"Now," he commanded.

I dropped my head and found my way to the chair across the table from him. I knew what he thought of me: a horny teenage boy who wanted nothing more than to pound his daughter into the next millennium. Which is what I wanted; I can't lie. But I wanted so much more than that. I loved her, and I wanted to be with her. She was the coolest person I knew.

He rested his arms on the table taking a loud, deep breath. He looked calmly right into my eyes. "Don't think I haven't been in your place before." I only nodded. "I was a little different then you though." I raised my eyebrows. "I was a lot more…aggressive…you could say. I liked to argue. I've grown out of that though. But…that doesn't mean I don't want to hear your excused." He finished.

We sat in silence for a minute. "What do you want me to say?" I asked.

"Whatever you feel like you need to say to defend yourself." His stare hardened.

I dropped my head in my hands. "In all honesty," I began, "I don't need to defend myself at all."

"Oh really?" his expression became irritated.

"I'm not trying to be rude." I said quickly, hoping he wasn't feeling the urge to grab a knife from the knife block on the counter behind me, and stab it into my chest. "I just-I…I'm trying to find an appropriate way to say this…"

"I told you: I've been in your place before. I've been a teenager before. And I know all of the inappropriate stuff you know, if not more. Tell me whatever the fuck you need to tell me," his voice stern.

Now that he was cussing, and I felt a little angry, I felt like I could cuss back. "I haven't had fucking sex with your daughter." I clenched my jaw shut.

He leaned back in his chair, crossing his aged arms. He smirked. "So you think you can cuss now?"

I sighed. "Well…" What the fuck do I say? "No. I don't. But…it's just…you're not making this easy." I complained.

He outright laughed. "You think I'm supposed to make this easy for you? Even with all of those thoughts about my daughter swirling around in your head?"

"No. I just… I've been a teenager too. Well technically I still am, but…oh my God I can't believe I'm telling you this." I paused, preparing myself. "I have fucked a lot of girls. There I said it. But one girl I haven't is Max. And I won't fuck her. I will make love to her. Because I am in love with her. Trust me, I've done the teenage thing, and I am so done with it. I've never had the feelings that go along with being with somebody. And I've never felt the feelings that I feel for your daughter. She, she is awesome. She is calm, but excitable. She's down to earth. We agree on almost everything. I just…I love spending time with her and I love just being near her." I finished. I was done. I wasn't going to say anything else.

He was still. His face was expressionless. "Okay. I respect what you just told me. Thank you for telling me the truth. But just…be careful with her." He finished like that was all he wanted to say.

"Trust me. I know. I'm trying to learn about the whole relationship thing as I go."

He nodded. "Don't go getting married or anything just because she turns 18 in a couple of days." He warned.

My eyes widened. "Do not worry about that."


"So…can I go?"

He nodded. "But next time I'm gone, tell her not to lie to me."

"Will do." I said before escaping through the front door.