This isn't exactly the most usual thing, a statement which seems ridiculous in comparison to some of their other stunts.
( Rachel's made it a point to run her fingers over every inappropriate inch of skin in public at least three times, now. That one time in Chloe's truck doesn't count. )
Rachel's laughing huskily against Max's lips, breathy and labored, just as Chloe's teeth work at the nape of her neck. She finds it easier to ground herself and pull Chloe closer when she wraps her arms around Chloe's neck, grasping at washed out strands of blue.
Chloe groans in response, and sucks hard at a patch of skin, making Rachel inhale and arch up against her.
( "Let's try something new," Rachel had breathed when she felt Max's fingers dance against her stomach, fingers trembling, but brown eyes burning with an intensity that stirred something fierce in her stomach. )
Something new is definitely something that has Chloe's mouth dry and Rachel nearly writhing in excitement. She keeps her cool as Chloe peppers her neck in kisses, though the punk's sharp blue eyes are locked on their resident photographer, darkened with the expectant arousal that courses through her veins.
Max pulls her lips away from Rachel's - Rachel nips at her lower lip as she's moving away, and she can't help the gasp that slips from her throat - and tries to catch her breath and think.
The atmosphere of the room is so heavy it's almost suffocating, like Chloe's AC has been shut off again, like they're drowning in the combined heat of their quickened breaths. The boiling arousal in her gut doesn't help. The way Chloe stares at her, blue gaze murky, and the way Rachel licks her lips and lowers her lids as she watches Max makes every inch of her skin feel as if it's on fire.
It could also tie into the straps around her hips, and foreign, extra weight hanging off her front and the nervousness slipping into the hazy mush of her mind.
How she'd put on this strap-on without dying of embarrassment immediately was a complete mystery to Max.
But clearly it's too late to be thinking of that, when Rachel's stripped naked, clothes in a pile on Chloe's already messy floor. Chloe's not quite the same - she's still wearing her jeans, skull tanktop hastily thrown onto her counter and bra hanging somewhere off the edge of her bed.
The scratchy fabric of Chloe's jeans against Rachel's bare skin sends shivers up her spine, and she grinds back against the punk and hears Chloe curse, a low little, "Fuck."
Max bites her lip, tries to keep herself from stressing out about this. Fuck. When Rachel had insisted they try something new, she'd wanted to make the model feel as good as she usually made her feel.
As rewarding as it is to have Rachel's fingers buried deep in her, or to see Chloe panting expletives as she'd worked that tongue against her, Max thinks about how much more rewarding it'd be to give the blonde the same treatment.
( Chloe had agreed, of course. )
"Are you going to just stand there, hippie, or are you going to get that bony ass over here?" For the first time in a few minutes, there were words instead of the smack of lips and echoed breaths. Of course it's Chloe, who's paused her work on Rachel's neck, staring too intensely at Max.
Rachel laughs, softly, scratches at the nape of Chloe's neck. "Not thinking of bailing, are you, Maxie?" She bites her lip, and even with her pale skin so flushed and hair in her face, she manages to appear as teasing as possible, and Max promptly wonders if she could ever wipe that expression off her face.
Oh. She totally could, Max realizes now, if she could get over the anxiousness that she's not going to be good enough at this. It's not as if she has the pleasure of experience - at least not from this angle.
Max swallows, moves closer, and once she does Rachel traps her. She wraps those long, slim legs around Max's waist and yanks her in forcibly, prompting Max to squeak and grasp at Rachel's hips for stability. "S-Sure, Rachel, I'm going to walk out right now." She responds with a weak snort, and watches, mesmerized, as Rachel grinds against the dildo and laughs shakily.
"That would probably be better than keeping me waiting, you know." Rachel jokes through a staggered little breath, and Max bites her lip and watches Chloe's hands move, her palms stopping onto Max's and squeezing in what she thinks is supposed to be a reassuring manner.
( It actually does help, right up until Chloe's hands trail up Rachel's sides, and Max gets to watch Rachel arch perfectly against Chloe's palms when they're on her breasts. )
Max licks her lips, and just to test the waters, she makes a motion of grinding against Rachel again, and there's a hitch in her breath that makes a chill go down her spine. It does feel awkward, totally foreign, considering what's slipping against Rachel's wetness isn't exactly her.
But fuck, does it feel good to elicit something out of her normally collected girlfriend.
"Mm, didn't know you were such a tease, Ma-" Max dips forward and presses her lips hard against her's, effectively cutting her off. Rachel kisses her back after the initial shock of Max's teeth clacking against her's.
Chloe laughs from behind her, and scrapes her teeth against her shoulder.
Kissing Rachel makes it so much easier to not think, so Max focuses on the easy pace she's set up. Rachel's hips jerk against her, seeking the friction, and when she kisses, she's always sure to have Max pull away first for breath.
"Maxie," She digs her heels against the back of Max's knees, and she almost topples over. Rachel's flushed and panting against her ear, but her words come out surprisingly stable, despite the fact they're tinged with the most desperation she thinks she's heard.
"When are you going to actually fuck me?"
Oh.
It's like molten lava is shucked into her stomach as the words pour directly into her ear, ushered in by hot breath. When Rachel pulls back to look at her, - brows raised, lips curled up - Max worries her own lip between her teeth.
Chloe whistles softly. "C'mon, Mad Max."
Rachel loosens one arm from around Chloe's neck, reaches forward to thread her fingers in Max's brunette strands instead. Max isn't sure if that's actually comfortable, but Rachel could make anything look comfortable, and... fuck, she's scratching at the back of Max's ear, knowing how much that soothes her, bringing her attention back to the both of them instead of her own concern.
"I was just making sure you were ready," Max defends, smiling slightly despite the thump of her heart in her throat. "Pretty sure that's what you're supposed to do."
Rachel raises her brows, Chloe grins. "You cocky fuck."
"Yes, Chloe, I know." Max can't help her response, and it takes the two of them a second to process it before they laugh simultaneously.
( Max loves this. Max loves being able to joke in the middle of wanting to ravage them both. )
And then abruptly, Rachel curls her fingers around Max's ear. "Well, I'm ready."
"Oh, shit," Max hears, and it's not Rachel, but Chloe who's talking, staring over Rachel's shoulder, breath coming in shallow.
Max admits that it slides in way easier than anticipated, and she feels Rachel tense under her fingers, feels her twitch and hold her breath.
"M-Mm. Move." Rachel instructs, and that's all she has to say to get Max started.
It's... It's awkward, at first, when Max has to rock her hips against Rachel, skin meeting skin, especially when she goes in so deep it makes the model groan and curl her toes.
"Wet," Max blurts out, without even thinking, and Rachel chokes out a strained laugh, looping both her arms around Max's shoulders. It's not like she's wrong; Rachel is soaking, she can hear the slick noise every time she pulls out.
"For you."
Max groans at the confession, and that seems to be just enough talking, for now. They settle into a nice routine; Max puts all her work into thrusting into Rachel, and Chloe keeps her grounded, kissing at her damp neck and shoulders and anywhere else she can reach.
Rachel, by extension, is reduced to nothing but a few gasps. With every thrust of Max's hips, her breath catches - every time she pulls out, she exhales, cranes her head up to give Chloe better access, and bites her lip.
Max thinks she's getting the hang of it when she changes direction, and Rachel makes this noise, a strangled moan.
"Ngh, mm, t-that-" Max bites her tongue, and does it again. Rachel's nails dig into the back of Max's neck and she gasps shakily, and Max tries not to hiss through her teeth at the pinch of her nails.
That feels great too, she decides.
"A-Again?" Max questions, but Chloe might be right; she is getting cocky, because before Rachel can answer, she repeats the action and Rachel tilts her head back.
She manages a strangled, "F-Fuck, Max."
"Okay," Max gasps out and Chloe chuckles from where she's got her teeth against Rachel's shoulder. Max is a little lightheaded, only because she's out of breath from all the effort she's exerting, but seeing Rachel squirm underneath her makes it so worth it.
Max almost wants to grin, and maybe she does, for a second. She can't tell, but by the way Chloe catches her eyes and grins too, she thinks she might have.
The photographer tries to keep her slick hands on place on Rachel's hips, but it's entirely more difficult than before, the perspiration from her fingers and the model's skin not helping. She sinks her fingers into her skin hard to keep them anchored.
Her lungs feel like they're on fire, her muscles are burning, and her hands keep slipping. The rough, quick way Rachel meets her hips make it harder to keep up, and she can feel the sweat drip off her neck and between her breasts.
And then Chloe's hands press firmly onto her's, stabilizing them.
It helps. Chloe's grip is still firm unlike her own shaking fingers; it keeps Max planted and Rachel from bucking out as wildly as before.
"Max, Chlo-" Rachel gasps, and Max covers it with her mouth, working sloppily against her. Rachel kisses her back, open mouthed and wild, tongue and lips nowhere near as coordinated as before. "I'm-"
Max doesn't need to hear the rest, and she puts the very last of her energy into this. Something which is running on fumes, the encouraging sound of Rachel's needy voice.
Max leans down closer, slamming into her so hard that Chloe's back ends up hitting the dashboard of her bed with a surprising ferocity, and the punk groans hotly. It's such, such a good thing that Joyce is working the night shift tonight, because Chloe's bed is squeaking and the bang of her back against the wall joins every other sound dominating the room.
Rachel hits that peak just moments after, and both Max and Chloe catch it when she gasps and tenses and claws at Max's back with clipped nails that still hurt. Max presses her lips to Rachel's jawline, and Chloe wraps both her arms around Rachel's stomach and peppers kisses along her shoulders.
Max slows her pace, letting Rachel ride it out, until Rachel twitches and relaxes her grasp on Max, slumping down on Chloe behind her. She tries to catch her breath, shutting her eyes.
Chloe smiles against her slick skin, and Max pulls back and smooths some hair out of Rachel's face.
"Ah," Rachel starts after a moment, trembling when Max pulls out of her and wipes at the hair stuck to her own forehead. "I hope this isn't why you're called Mad Max."
"Oh my god." Max puts her hands over her face, and Rachel hums softly, unlinks her legs from around Max. Chloe just grins and gently nudges Rachel after a few moments.
"Sure hope... I'll be getting a taste of that."
Max freezes, and then looks totally stricken. "Wait like, right now?" God, all she can think about is how tired she is, and how her legs feel like jelly.
Rachel pops her eyes open to look at her, then she stares up at Chloe, and the two burst into gentle laughter. The model finally gets off Chloe's lap, and the blue-haired girl blinks for a second before getting it and moving over.
Rachel beckons Max closer, and reluctantly she comes, ears burning red. But then she feels Rachel's fingers lazily undoing the straps around her waist, and she feels even more embarrassed. "You don't have to-"
"Hush, Max." Rachel soothes, something that works even when her voice is dripping with exhaustion. She hands the strap-on to Chloe, who sets it on the already cluttered nightstand next to her bed. Wordlessly, she pats the spot in between them.
"Come here, dork. I call dibs on some Max-imum banging next time." Chloe taunts, but her voice is soft.
Max rolls her eyes, unable to help it in the face of Chloe's godawful attempt at humor. She crawls on the bed and plops down in between them, and the second she does, Chloe presses up close to her and throws a jean clad leg over Max's. Rachel turns the other way and kisses Max's nose, humming softly again.
Max is dozing when one last quip sinks into her burnt out mind.
"Chlo, you should have told me she was an animal in bed."
Max groans and buries her face against Rachel's arm and tries to kick a snickering Chloe's leg off her.
( The next morning, when they hear the slam of the front door and Joyce calling for Chloe, they scramble off each other.
The hickies lining Rachel's neck and collarbone, and the bruises on her hips make it impossible to do anything but shove her in the closet until the coast is clear. Max's shoulders and back are just as scraped up, but that's nothing her t-shirt won't cover.
Chloe forgets to put away the evidence on the nightstand. )