Page 34 of Unstitch

I smile at him as I swirl my delicious wine around my wineglass.

I like that he’s feeding me. Spoiling me.

I like that he’s not just behaving like I’m some random he’s invited here to fuck, even if that’s all I am.

I like that he’s taking the time to explain his work stuff without talking down to me like I’m some total dumbass.

And I really like that he’s so impressive, so clearly great at what he does. My competence kink is in overdrive, and it’s giving me the horn.

‘It makes perfect sense, thank you,’ I tell him.

‘Good.’ He strokes a loose tendril of hair off my shoulder and then grazes his fingertip up my face, tucking the strand gently behind my ear. ‘You really are extraordinarily beautiful, you know. I was hoping last night would get you out of my system, but if I’m honest, I knew it would just make me want more.’

We stare at each other. He has that hungry look on his face again, the one he always gets around me. But it feels deeper, more charged, somehow. Probably because we both know how good it is between us. I love the anticipation of fucking someone I’ve felt great chemistry with, but it’s even more fun when you’ve consummated that chemistry.

This is the second time in less than an hour that I’ve stared deep into the eyes of a heavenly man, and his words have the added unfortunate effect of triggering the flurry of butterflies I felt when I told Dex he was beautiful.

This, right here, is great. Perfect. I’m thrilled to be here with Max, in his mausoleum of a flat, while he feeds me extortionate Chinese leftovers before sweeping me off to bed. I know what a catch he is. I know how good we are together, even if it’s casual.

But I’m a greedy, greedy girl. I just spent a couple of hours sitting next to a guy whose sheer physical perfection would challenge even Max’s. I know he wants me, even if I suspect he’d need a hell of a lot of cajoling to do anything about it. I suspect he’s shy. Moral. Noble. And I suspect none of those personality traits, however impressive, will do my cause any favours.

But I’d like to have a crack at him, anyway.

And everything I know about Max tells me he’s open-minded and kinky and up for anything. We’re casual, and he won’t have wanted to put any dibs on me yet. He shared my sister with Anton. Jesus, he shared Anton’s assistant with Anton, according to Gen.

He’s a naughty boy, and that’s a huge part of his attraction for me. I love his debauched side. I want more of it. I came back here to work in a sex club but, last night aside, I’ve been as virtuous as a nun.

Maybe Max is the key to my letting loose.

I set down my chopsticks.

‘Can I ask you a question?’ I ask.

He grins adorably, putting his warm hand on my thigh and massaging it through the slinky silk jersey of my dress. ‘You can ask me anything.’

Here goes.

‘Would you be up for a threesome?’

25

MAX

I’m fucking gobsmacked.

I thought Darcy and I were having a moment. I told her how beautiful she was; I opened up about wanting more of her. I said all the things women love to hear. Not that they were insincere—I meant every word—but I was confident I could predict the effect they’d have on her.

Nope.

Would you be up for a threesome?

Who the actual fuck is this woman?

Because I think I’m in love.

I bark out a laugh. People don’t shock me. Not in business. Not in bed. But I sure as hell didn’t see that little proposition coming.

‘That’s a heck of a non sequitur,’ I splutter, but I’m not affronted. I’m tickled as fuck.

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