Page 192 of Key of Kink

To my surprise, Max didn’t laugh or even chuckle. “I wouldn’t do that.”

I blinked again. “Why not?”

Then he smiled. “Because you’re not something I want broken.”

Oh fuck.

He unravelled me with six fucking words.

I rested my forehead against his chest, Max’s arm still around me.

“Duncan’s gone to fetch a warm, damp cloth to wipe away all the lube, and then when you’re able, we’re going to head over to the couch and you’re going to sit cuddled up to me for as long as you want.”

“Yeah, we might have to wait a minute or two. I don’t think my legs are working,” I joked. I wrapped my arms around him.

“Still breathing?” Max asked.

“Mostly.”

“Good.”

“I know I already told you it was intense.” I tilted my head back to see his eyes. “It was worth it, though.”

Max’s smile lit up his face. “Yes, it was.” He glanced towards the bar. “Oh, what a pity. Grant has already left.”

“Grant who?”

Max kissed me, a fervent collision of lips and tongue, and it was exactly what I wanted. I buried my face in his chest, and his fingers traced the line of my neck.

“Is there anything you need?”

I was quiet for a moment, not searching for words but choosing the right ones.

Then I lifted my head and looked at him. “Yes. To be with you tonight.” I held his gaze. “Take me home with you?”

For a second he didn’t answer, and then he brushed his hand lightly across the back of my neck. “Yes.”

Relief swamped me, and I shuddered. “Thank you.”

Max took my hand in his, and it was then that I realised the truth. Tonight had stopped being about a scene a long time ago. Somehow, without either of us saying it out loud⁠—

It had become about us.

“And when we get home, there are a couple of things I need to share with you.”

I caught my breath.

“Yeah, me too.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Max

The Uber ride back to my flat was quiet.

Quinn sagged into the seat beside me, my arm draped across the backrest behind his shoulders. I brushed the nape of his neck with my fingertips, and he leaned into the touch. His hand lay on my thigh, squeezing every now and then as if confirming I was still there.

He looks… light.