Page 111 of All the Forbidden Things
“Sorry this isn’t the standard morning-after scenario.” Max’s eyes apprehensively meet mine.
I shake my head. “Last night wasn’t standard, we’re not standard. This . . . this is the perfect morning-after scenario.” I scrape my fingernails across the tattooed skin on Max’s chest before kissing Layla’s bare back, Max’s bare shoulder, Layla’s dark head, and Max’s soft lips. “I need the bathroom,” I whisper against his mouth.
I shift to the edge of the bed, and finding nothing around me to pull on, fuelled by our pre-sex conversation and Max’s constant reassurances, I walk away naked.
Like most women, I have a few issues and insecurities with my body image. I’m short, so any weight I gain shows instantly. I rarely work out but have naturally toned legs, my boobs are a little too big for my frame, hips that are curvy, a belly that’s soft, and an arse that is round. Fortunately, I was blessed with a small waist, so the whole package works for me, and by the way Max went at me all night last night,he’shappy withallthat is me too.
So, I own those short legs and fat arse, and I walk to my bathroom like a boss, knowing for sure Max will be watching me every step of the way.
While standing under the hot water, I replay everything that happened last night. Max is an expert fuck who likes to talk dirty and push boundaries. A moment after telling me he’s gonna slide his fingers in my arse while fucking me from behind, he’s kissing softly up my spine to my neck, telling me how perfect I am. He kissed me like he’d die if he didn’t. He worshipped every inch of my body, including my fingers and toes, and then he gave me four orgasms.
Two of those were the first time he fucked me, one the second time. The third happened when I woke in the middle of the night to feel him slide inside me from behind as we spooned. His fingers on my clit, his cock stroking in and out of me, and his arm wrapped around my waist as he held me tightly against him while whispering filthy, dirty words into my ear, had me going off like a rocket in minutes. And although I’m feeling sore and sensitive, I loved every, single moment.
I should be ecstatic, but after slathering my face and body in moisturiser, pulling my huge pink towelling bathrobe around me, and cleaning my teeth, I head back out to my bedroom with a huge knot lodged in my throat and a stone sitting in my stomach.
I fucked up. Massively. And now we need to have the talk.
Max is sitting on the end of my bed when I walk back outside. His jeans and T-shirt from last night are back on, and with one ankle resting on the opposite knee as he pulls on a sock, he looks up at me and smiles.
I stop in my tracks.
His smile stops me in my tracks, and my nose begins to tingle as I worry I’m about to fuck all of this up.
I twist the belt from my robe around my fingers and just stand there, not knowing what to say.
“You all right?” he asks. “What’s that look for?”
I take a deep breath in, but it doesn’t stop my jaw, my lips, or my voice from trembling, because I know I’m about to ruin everything. “That’s the first time I’ve had sex in two years.”
He frowns, finishes pulling on his sock, places both his feet down on the hardwood floor, and leans his elbows on his knees. “Okay.”
“When I started working for the Bosworth's, I had to have a full medical. Obviously, they were handing over their most precious possession into my care, so that included tests for HIV and STDs.”
He sits up straight, pulling his shoulders back and, still frowning, he now looks worried. “Go on . . .”
“Everything came back negative. I’ve never slept around, Max. There was one boy at school and one boy at college, but I’ve always been careful. There’s been no one . . . no one since college, no one since I had the medical.”
He nods, his shoulders a little more relaxed, but his brows are still pulled down into a frown.
“We weren’t careful last night. We didn’t use a condom . . .”
His eyes dart to my fingers as I twist the belt around them. “We didn’t,” he agrees, nodding. “And I apologise for that, but I’m all clean. After Whitney, after I found out she was banging Gardener, and apparently doing it without a condom if she thought Layla was his, I got myself checked out . . . Layla too. He was a junkie, and I didn’t know what he might’ve passed on to her. We’re good, we’re both good, so you—”
“I’m not on the pill.”
His head jerks back as if he’s been slapped.
“I was, but then everything happened in America, and then I was in the hospital, then I flew home, and all of my stuff only arrived last week . . . so, yeah . . . I know I should’ve said something, but I didn’t expect . . . I was never . . .”
He stands from the bed and walks towards me. Stopping about as close as he can get without touching me, he pulls the belt to my robe from my hands, grips my chin between his thumb and index finger, and tilts it up, so I have to look at him and not at the floor.
“We’re both adults, Bamm. Last night’s on both of us, not just you. I was the instigator, I should’ve planned ahead.” He wraps his arms around my shoulders and pulls me against him. “We both fucked up,” he says right into my ear.
The eruption of goosebumps across my skin is instant.
“We fucked up . . . and down. From behind. And sideways.” He continues grinding against me. When I pull back and look up at him, he’s smiling. “And now I’m hard and want to do it all again.”
“You’re insatiable for an old man.”
