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My breath hitches,it’s like a mirage, because she’s here. Beautiful long brown hair, hanging down to her shoulders, an apprehensive smile on her flushed cheeks as she takes me in. She looks casual today, tight black jeans and heels—for her this is casual. She’s so beautiful I feel my knees buckle. I hover my hand to the lift buttons to hold the door open but neither of us make any signs that we are going to move. She nods her head at my suitcase.
“Going somewhere?” she asks quickly.
“Coming home,” I tell her just as fast.
“Oh sorry, Max. I won’t disturb you, I can come back?” She’s hesitant, which is unlike her.
“No, Ali. Don’t go. Come up, please?” I didn’t want my voice to sound that desperate, I wanted to form some kind of plan of how I could even approach her again, especially as she didn’t seem to want to be found.
“You sure? I don’t want to disturb you if you’ve been travelling. You are probably tired?”
“No, not too tired to see you. Never too tired for you, Ali,” I assure her, and she smiles. It’s a shy small smile but I feel it right down to my balls. They tighten at just the thought of her being anywhere near my apartment again.Get it fucking together, Baines.She nods at me and steps into the elevator, I can smell her perfume, intoxicating. Blindsiding all of my cohesive thoughts. She’s come to me, what can that mean? She’s missed me? I mean she left her thong here, but I doubt she’s come back for that after all this time.
The elevator whirs as we travel up. One floor. Two. This is me. The metal doors open, and I gesture for her to exit, her heels click on the tiled floor as she walks to my door and waits for me. As I fumble in my pockets for the keys I eventually get them in the door and open it.Function like a fucking human, Max, please!
It’s just how I left it; I cancelled my house keeper before I went away. I’m a man, I don’t need someone cleaning up after me. I wish I hadn’t now because there is stuff everywhere. Only clothes and coffee mugs, well, and a few empty bottles but I still don’t want Ali seeing it like this. I tidied for hours when I knew she was coming last time. I give her an apprehensive smile and pull my suitcase into the kitchen, switching on the lights over the island. She hovers as if she doesn’t really know what to do. I gesture for her to take a seat.
“I’ll, err, put the kettle on,” I mumble as I hover near the sink and fill the kettle. “I don’t have any milk; I hope you still take it black?” I ask her and she just smiles.
“Do you have any decaf?” she asks me, and I turn to her and give her a look like she just sprouted horns out of the top of her head or something. Since when has she drunk decaf? Fuck, I don’t really see the point in coffee if you are not getting the desired effect from it. She has always drank her coffee strong and black the same way I do.
“Erm, I don’t think so? I can go and get you some, or there’s actually some herbal tea at the back of the cupboard from Finch’s last stupid health kick if you really want?” I offer. What an offer, here the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with, have some old tea bags my friend drank one out of the box over a year ago. I’m sure she’ll be back for more.Dammit, Max. She gives me an over sympathetic smile.
“I’ll make it,” she tells me, “You can go and clean up?” She knows me, knows I’m not tired after a flight but I’m in desperate need of a shower. I nod at her, point at the cupboard where the mugs and coffee are kept, even though I’m sure she knows, I grab my suitcase and carry it into my bedroom.
The hot water of the en-suite shower is needed, the droplets of scalding water feel lush on my skin, like they are massaging all the pain out of my shoulders. Trying to relax me. But how can I relax when Ali is sitting in my kitchen? My messy kitchen that looks like a fucking student lives in it. I look down at my cock. Straining, hard just at the mention of her name, the sound of her voice, the curve of her arse in those jeans. I want to touch myself so desperately. My cock physically hurts. But I’ve got to go against my brain. I kind of deserve the torture of having her here and not being able to touch her, my cock doesn’t deserve the libation it craves any more than my head does. I turn off the water grab a towel and quickly dry myself, pulling on the only clean shirt I can find which just happens to be my latest Crystal Palace strip. Possibly the only clothing I own that isn’t black, I find some black gym shorts and pull those on too. I don’t need to bother with boxers.
When I re-enter the kitchen it’s tidy; I look to Ali, she’s taken off her jacket and rolled up the sleeves of her button-up blouse, she smiles at me nervously as she pushes a mug of coffee towards me. Black. Steaming Hot. Fucking heavenly.
“You didn’t have to.” I gesture at the clean room and the dishwasher that’s clearly on in the corner.
“I’ve been cleaning up after you for years, Max, why break the habit of a lifetime, huh?”
I laugh, an open loud laugh as I take the coffee cup from the side and gesture to the couch, she follows me, and we both sit. She slips out of her heels, I’m not sure if it’s instinctive or not but she puts her feet on the sofa next to me. I marvel at the red polish that matches her fingers. I put my mug down and stroke my hand across her tiny foot, tugging at them so she rests them across my lap. She smiles at me nervously as my hands massage up and down the balls of her feet, rubbing them just the way I know she likes. It can’t be good for her walking around in those heels all the time. I want her to release some tension.
“This okay?” I ask her and she nods at me, taking a sip of whatever green concoction is in her mug, the tea bag label is still hanging out. I’ve never seen her drink anything apart from black coffee or red wine, or the odd glass of champagne at functions.
“Where have you been?” she asks me, it’s not accusing, I think she’s just curious. I’m glad she’s breaking the ice because apart from the impromptu foot rub, I really don’t know how to play this. She’s thrown me by coming here.
“New York,” I tell her quickly.
“With Preston Miller?” she asks, and I nod. How does she know I was with him?
“Yeah, with Preston. I had to come back though.”
“You did?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I, erm, left something behind.” I tell her. Oh, fuck this is so hard. Why is this so impossibly hard?
“What was that?”
I shuffle, I run my index finger down the ball of her foot, and listen to the little moan she involuntarily let’s leave her throat, feeling it in my blue balls.
“You,” I blurt out, and she pulls her feet back and puts them straight on the floor, she looks to the carpet. Oh fuck.
“Max.” Her voice is a warning but like fuck am I letting her go again.
“Ali, please. Let me say my piece. If you want to leave after that fine but just let me finish, okay?” I beg and she nods at me, her beautiful green eyes fixed on me.
