Page 104 of Unstitch

‘I brought lube,’ he says. ‘I figured you’d be far too proper to walk into a chemist and buy some for yourself.’

‘I have lube,’ I tell him archly. ‘I got some in my online Waitrose shop last week.’

He grins, stroking his thumb over our cocks. It’s a simple act, but it still feels like a miracle that I can even do this with him. ‘You do Waitrose shops? I didn’t think you knew how to cook.’

‘It was beer, protein shakes and lube, I think. Oh, and some crisps.’

He laughs softly. ‘Classy guy.’

‘I try.’ I tilt my head up for a kiss, but he dodges my mouth.

‘I want to tell you something.’

I pout at his rejection. ‘What?’

‘You’ll get your kiss in a second.’ He squeezes us more tightly, and God, it feels so hot and so intense to have us pulsing together in his hand. ‘But I want to tell you something.’

He looks at me with those clear blue eyes, and I almost forget how to breathe. His smile turns a little sheepish, I think, and something else. Self-conscious, maybe?

‘The first time I saw you…’ He trails off. ‘I’ve wanted this from the very first second I saw you, basically.’

I think back to that moment at the club, where he was waiting for me with a G&T and an air of confidence I could never hope to emulate, and I recall how unsettled I was. I labelled the feeling hostility at the time, because he was with Darcy and I wasn’t, and because he was obviously a smug bastard, but I’m well aware that was inaccurate at best.

‘At the club,’ I say.

‘No. Well, yes, at the club. But before that, the night Darcy met you. She came home all giggly and confessed that there was a guy she’d met whom she was very attracted to. That was the night she pitched the threesome. And we found your photo on your sister’s Instagram feed, and?—’

He pauses, his hand flexing around our dicks. Desperate as I am to get off, I find myself more desperate to hear what he’s going to say next.

‘I took one look at your photo,’ he says. His voice is so quiet now, his eyes on me so soft. ‘You were laughing—you had your head thrown back, and—I was in freefall. As soon as I saw you, I was gone. You affected me so powerfully from that moment, and everything I’ve done since the second you walked into Alchemy that night has been to get you, and not just for Darcy. For myself, too.

‘And I may have been heavy handed with you—I know I’ve pushed you hard, before you were ready for any of it—but I don’t regret a thing. But I wanted you to know how I feel, because if you think I’ve come here this evening thinking with my dick alone, that couldn’t be less true.’

His words, his amazing, potent, generous, raw words, hang in the air between us as the rain beats on and our dicks throb side by side. I’m used to Max being self-assured and cajoling and relentless; I’m used to him being in control. So vulnerable, heartfelt Max is a lot for my poor heart to contend with.

I resented his heavy-handedness at first, of course I did, because it forced me to do and feel all manner of things I absolutely wasn’t ready for. But he knew I needed all those harsh, terrifying, mind-altering lessons more than I would ever let on to myself. From the moment we met, it’s always felt like I’m utterly transparent to him, like he can see me more clearly than I can see myself.

We’ve come so far—he’s led me so far—and I have no intention of meeting his honesty with anything less than my own truths.

‘I think you affected me, too, from the second I met you,’ I tell him now, ‘and that’s why I tried to run for the hills every time you pushed me. You scared the absolute shit out of me, because the reactions my body was having to you were everything I’d tried very hard not to acknowledge my whole life. And not just my body,’ I add, because I don’t want him thinking I’m leading with my dick, either. I couldn’t bear it if he thought he didn’t affect me the way he says I affect him.

When he kisses me, it’s ardent and possessive, and the flames of new, astonishing emotions lick at my heart as fiercely as his tongue licks at my mouth. Our dicks are still in his hand, but I know I’ll be able to hold off. I know I’ll wait for whatever he deems it right to give me.

I know he’ll make it worth my while.

He always does.

73

MAX

Aminimalist bedroom. The wonderful roar of summer rain outside, the same rain diffusing the light in the room so it’s soft and pearlescent.

And, best of all, a naked man lying on his stomach for me, his skin olive against the white sheets, his arse paler and so luscious-looking, dark head cradled in his arms and the most tantalising of shadows between his legs. His cock is out of sight, but I know better than anyone how hard it must be straining right now in its captivity between his stomach and his sheets.

The sight of him takes my breath away.

I kneel up on the bed and nudge his legs apart, taking in the delicate nodes of his spinal column, the curve of his lower back, the tautness of his hamstrings and the firm hairiness of his calves and the silken skin blanketing his shoulder blades. I take in the jut of his jaw, the fine lines of his nose in profile, the flickers of his eyelashes on his cheek as he awaits me, and I can scarcely breathe.

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