“I love you,” I murmur right as he pushes inside.
“I love you too.”
Something shifts under my head, pulling me from my dream. That wasn’t the first sexual dream I’ve had about Max, but it’s definitely the first with him actually present.
He’s here.
Still curled up in a ball on my side, I smile.
He stayed.
Looking over my shoulder, my heart races. Max has his head tipped back at an uncomfortable angle, and his mouth is slightly open. Along his jaw he’s got more than a five o’clock shadow happening. I don’t even have to sit up to know that his dark hair is a mess.
Handsome. He’s so handsome, and for one minute I can’t help but pretend that he’s mine. That the dream I had was real.
If only.
His head rolls to the side, and I have to bite my lip to stop myself from laughing. He’s going to totally wake up with a crick in his neck.
Then again, mine doesn’t feel much better. His thigh is warm, but not quite so comfortable under my head.
I should get up. I need a chai tea latte and to make Max some coffee since I know he will want some once he rejoins the land of the living.
I could make him breakfast as well. As a thank you for the back massage.
I feel myself blush as I think about the way his hands felt on my bare skin. The way I moaned when he hit a particularly tight spot.
God, how embarrassing. I really do owe him breakfast at the very least.
Carefully, I shift, and that’s when I feel it. The wetness between my thighs. Horror fills me as I realize what happened while I was sleeping.
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
Scrambling, I push myself up, somehow nailing him in the balls, making him shout.
“Sorry!” I call over my shoulder as I head toward my bathroom.
As soon as I sit down on the toilet, I know that I made a mess. There’s no way I didn’t.
Tears build in my eyes. How mortifying. I know it’s illogical to be upset, but I am. Max knows. There’s no way he doesn’t. My couch is light gray, for crying out loud. There’s no way that it doesn’t look like a murder happened on it right now.
Shit, the blood is going to stain. It would be one thing if the couch was actually mine, but this is a furnished apartment, which means I ruined the company’s couch.
A sob slips out, and my body begins to shake. When a knock hits the bathroom door, I cover my mouth with my hand.
“Iris, are you okay?” Max asks through the door.
No, Maximilian, I’m so far from okay it’s not even funny. What a stupid question. Usually I don’t believe any question is a stupid question, but today is the exception.
Would you be okay?I want to yell back at him.
It’s not his fault. He’s just genuinely concerned.
My internal thoughts bicker back and forth while I sit on the toilet, petrified of what awaits me on the other side of that door.
A whimper falls from my lips as my eyes blur with tears.
“Iris…just take your time, okay? Do whatever you need to do. Take a shower or a bath. Once you’re done, I’m here, okay?”
