"Nothing. She got naked. Girls do that."
I laugh with derision. "No, they don't."
"It was a bucks party! She wanted me to fuck her. I could have, Cassidy. I fucking didn't! Xander got his dick wet. Bronson got his dick wet. I. Did. Not."
"Did you touch her?"
"I'm sure at some point I did."
The ambiguity in his answer infuriates me. "Did you get anything elsewet?"
His bloodshot eyes narrow on my face. "No. But if you keep talking dirty like that, I'm gonna shove my cock down your throat to silence you."
I consider pushing him away in a form of protest, but then I'm filled with fear he'll let me, so I don't. "How hung-over are you?"
"I'm not hung-over."
I scoff. "Right."
He tries to bat his eyelids, but they seem nearly too heavy to lift. "I'm still pissed. And I'd like to seeyouin a muzzle. Straitjacket. Nothing else."
"Max. You can't just say these things." My eyes squeeze shut as I shake my head, just once. I shouldn't be listening to a single word that comes out of his gorgeous mouth. Not while he's intoxicated. I doubt he'll even remember this conversation. And if he does, well, I'm sure he'll regret saying he can be a one-girl guy.
"Okay, no straitjacket," he says.
I open my eyes to find him smirking at me. "Max. Do you know what you're saying to me? I mean...monogamous."
His brows draw together. "Never tell me not to touch you again. I fucking hated that."
"You can't just touch naked girls! You can't just sleep next to naked girls whenever you want."
He laughs a little. "Oh really? Fuck, forget about it then."
"Max," I breathe. "That's what this means."
His head dips back as he groans. "Listen. I'm not concerned. You want me to be monogamous. Then fine. I thought it would be hard. But last night I managed it." I attempt to interrupt, but he fists my hair, giving mea light tug in warning. "And I fucking swear to God, if you make me say I didn't fuck her one more time?—"
"Do you know how it felt to see her in your arms?"
"It wasn't a big deal, Little One!"
"Imagine if you walked in and I was naked, and my body was pressed against another guy. Would that be abig deal?"
As his eyes dilate almost instantly, the fingers knotted in my hair tighten. He leans in until his lips touch my ear. "Cassidy... You donotwant me imagining that."
The heat from his breath cascades down my throat like a warning. "I was kidding."
"Well, I'm not fucking kidding. Be very careful," he growls as he walks me into the villa. "We can talk about this shit later. You can write me a long fucking list of all the things I can't do. I just gotta lay down and I need you next to me."
The performance
My phone rings,vibrating against the bamboo side table. When I search for it, Max's resting face brushes my arm. His chin hair is rough against my skin. My fingers fumble to find the phone's lock button, so I can stop its obnoxious sound before it wakes him. We are above the covers. Max is still in his jeans, unbuttoned and showing tight abdominal muscles that point towards his favourite appendage. He clearly has no boxers on.
I wriggle around on the sheets and then press my palm to his chest. I kiss his cheek. I want to be happy, but there is too much fear weighing me down. Fear of losing him. Of lies. Of deceit. I don't know Max well enough to know whether I can believe him. That he didn't sleep with her.
My fingers skate over the rugged bumps of his stomach and circle the little trail of hair that leads beneath his jeans. He should smell like man and sweat, but instead his scent is arousing. Hot. Max.
So even if he did sleep with her, his beautiful body is now mine. All mine. Perhaps I can believe that. I pushmy hand down the neat path of hair and fondle his penis and then his balls. He groans as his hips move up into my touch.
