Page 15 of Awakening Anna

Chapter Eight

The next morning,Anna woke to find the light on her nightstand glowing, which meant the electricity was back on. The next thing she noticed was the rise and fall of her pillow, which wasn’t a pillow at all, but Max’s muscled chest. She shifted her legs to roll off him and had to swallow a moan of pain. She’d clearly exercised some muscles that didn’t get used very often.

But the pain—and the man in her bed—was proof that the night before had really happened. This time, sex with Max hadn’t been just a dream.

She’d need to get in better shape if they were going to keep this up. Then again, the orgasms alone were worth every ache and pain.

Tiptoeing around the room, Anna gathered her clothes and reached the bathroom without waking Max. Though she did pause to watch him for a minute or two. With his hair a mess and an arm thrown above his head, he looked like a model from a cologne ad. The sheet hit several inches below his naval, revealing the chiseled Vs formed by his hip bones, and one bare leg hung off the side of the mattress.

There were several delicious ways she could wake him—at least three ran through her mind—but then a muscle twitched in her thigh, and Anna headed for the shower.

In the middle of washing her hair, Max surprised her by stepping into the tub. He took over the task—an experience nearly as erotic as the decadent things they’d done during the night—and then he thoroughly washed the rest of her. As the soap rinsed away, Anna looked down at the beautiful man on his knees before her and found herself smiling breathlessly. And then she stopped breathing, because Max….well, Max was on his knees.

She was mindless within seconds but still managed to return the favor. She was sore, after all, not stupid.

Twenty-four hours ago, Anna had been a lonely librarian who’d never had an orgasm with a partner. What a difference a day made.

Or a night, in this case.

She felt as if she’d been in some kind of functioning coma until Max walked into her life. While he remained under the shower, Anna pulled on a robe and padded off to her kitchen to make breakfast, her whole body tingling at the image of him naked and wet, begging her to stay.

In reality, Max hadn’t beg for anything. He didn’t have to. But as persuasive as he was, Anna’s knees were wobbly, and she’d felt curiously new. Giving in would have been easy, but the new Anna retained enough of her previous self to know when she needed to get her bearings. If she wasn't careful, her heart would get involved and then where would she be?

She was already on shaky ground. Sex with Max was like playing with fire—beautiful but dangerous. If Anna wasn’t careful, she would end up more than a little singed.

The image of him above her, eyes dark with desire, kept running through her mind, and with every vivid memory, her skin heated as if he were touching her again. Would getting burned really be such a bad thing?

The coffee was ready, and the shower had stopped, so Anna filled a mug and sauntered down the hall, half hoping to catch him naked and waiting for her return. The library didn’t open for a couple of hours. They had time for another round. Or two. When she stepped into the bedroom, Max was staring out the window, back rigid and arms crossed. Not a happy stance.

“I brought you coffee.” She walked over and handed him the dark brew. “What's wrong?”

“I'm sorry,” he said, curling his fingers around her silly Winnie-the-Pooh mug. His eyes searched hers, silver in the morning light.

“For what?” she asked, keeping her voice steady. That couldn’t be regret in his face.

“I didn’t think it would be this hard.”

“What are you talking about?” This wasn’t the seductive man she’d left in the shower. The one who’d almost—almost—convinced her to stay.

“I’m leaving.”

Of course, he had to leave at some point. He lived upstairs. He had a book to write. It wasn’t as if she’d expected him to move in with her.

She gave him a lazy smile, one that showed no concern. Or so she hoped. “I know you have to work. So do I.”

“That’s not what I mean. I only rented the apartment for a of couple months.” His eyes dropped to the dark liquid before returning to hers. “I’m locked into a book tour. My flight leaves tomorrow.”

The words hit like a blow, a physical pain. Anna didn't delude herself that this was her happily ever after, but she never thought it would end so soon.

Not after he’d stayed the night and been in no hurry to leave this morning.

They stood in silence, Anna watching the tiny particles of dust dancing in the sunlight while Max's words lingered in the space between them, robbing the air of oxygen.

“We should have breakfast,” she said, bolting out of the room.

Before Max could respond, she was halfway to the kitchen. As melodramatic as it sounded, this man had changed her life. She wasn't going to spoil their last hours with tears or regrets. The least she could do was make him some pancakes.

She was dragging pans out of the cupboard when Max walked into the kitchen. “Anna.”

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