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I could never doubt it, especially when she pulled back for the briefest of moments to grin wickedly and ask, “Do you like that?”
I groaned as I fell back into her, savouring her in the perfection of the moment. I couldn’t promise her I’d never lie, but I swore to myself I’d do everything I could to make her happy. So, when she looked at me, it was with the same fusion of rage and love she was treating me to now, the one I adored.
Cat
We emerged into the dark night air with our hands clasped. The only light came from the streetlamps lining the giant car park and the glow of phones coming from a small crowd of fans and reporters still waiting for Max. There were at least one hundred people, enough to slow us down.
“Max! What happened with Bun Bun!?”
“Cat! Why did you break up such a perfect couple!?”
“Don’t let it bother you,” Max murmured as security guards parted the crowd, like I hadn’t been dealing with this my whole life.
I stopped him. Right in front of the cameras and the fans dying to get his autograph. I yanked his arm and made him look at me. He was a mess, and it was electric. His makeup had smeared with mine as we kissed, leaving pink streaks around his chin and under his nose, and I was sure I looked the same. His panda eyes were adorable, and I wanted to kiss him again, here, in front of everyone, so they knew he belonged to me. His hair was flopping everywhere, but the rings still stuck through. The aroma of sweat wafted towards me in the winter breeze, and I wanted to pin him down and discover just how rich his scent was under his arms and between his thighs. I fucking loved it.
“Oh, don’t worry,Maxxy. You’re going to be spending years making it up to me.”
The way his eyes lit up, his small smile, and the excited tremor that ran through his hand into mine as he squeezed it got me.
“Years?” He looked so hopeful. It was awful.
“Yes, years. What? You think you can get away from me now?” Never, not when I spilled my soul to him like that.
He opened his mouth to reply, but the security guards keeping the rabid fans back cut through. “Hurry, they’re going to start ganging up on us!”
The last time I thought he was cute was when he came around my fingers, reaching for me, crying out my name. Now my heart was stuttering at his stupid, happy little smile as he turned away from me. The crowd parted to reveal a limo, the driver already holding open the door as the security guards packed us in.
He was meant to be a rock god. It was one of hundreds of reasons I loved having him under me. As the limo door slammed shut behind us, the shouts of the fans and reporters died away. I laid eyes on the scene before me and groaned.
What an ass. He was terrible.
Rose petals scattered the seats, an ice bucket held a bottle of chilling champagne, and soft R&B gently set the mood along with the low lighting shining up from behind the seats. It was so cheesy and cliché, and I fell for it instantly.
He let go of me as soon as we got inside, shooting over to the ice bucket and the fluffy white towels folded next to it. He ruined my fun by throwing off his leather vest, giving me a fine view of the ridges of his spine pushing out from under his skin. I’d wanted to remove his clothes bit by bit, making him beg and plead for me to go faster or slow down. I guess compromise was part of a relationship.
He dipped the towel in the bucket and started cleaning himself. He really didn’t know how intoxicating his musky smell was. We couldn’t stand up straight in the limo’s cab, but I moved quickly enough to grab the towel before he rubbed it all away.
He turned, surprised, and offered me a gorgeous view of his chest. My eyes ran over him, enjoying the path of hair that disappeared below the waistline of his leather trousers. I suspected it would become my new obsession, along with everything else I wanted to rediscover.
“On the seat. Now.” I pointed to exactly where I wanted him.
I loved how excited he looked, that he jumped as soon as I spoke. He moved to the seat instantly, and I dropped the towel to follow him.
This was my man. This was the man I wanted to give myself to. I watched him throw himself into the seat, looking at me expectedly.
This wasn’t a quick and passionate rendezvous at parties or even the tender lovemaking that shook me weeks ago. It was so much bigger than that. As I looked at him, I knew this was the next step on a journey I never wanted to end.
I leant over him, drawing in his scent, which had wiped away the delicate aroma of the roses that had filled the limo. He was dirty, he was raw, and he was mine.
The car rumbled as the engine sprung to life, and the driver pulled away. I didn’t know where we were going, but my focus was elsewhere.
I hitched my knees, mounting his lap, loving his deep inhale of expectation. I’d been waiting to show him the electric green bra since I’d found it earlier today.
I’d fished it out of the very back of my closet, from a box where I carried the most important pieces of him. Every time I moved, it came with me. The box used to torture me whenever I glimpsed it, so I hid it under a pile of shoes I never wore but kept just to hide it. I knew I had the bra there, and I ended up spending an hour rifling through the memories—from the tiny seashells we’d collected on a random beach trip to tickets for Clutch’s first onstage performance, the electric green band hoodie he liked to fuck me in, and this bra.
He kept his hands still, focused on my fingers as I popped open the buttons. I laughed freely as I tore open the jacket, revealing myself to him. His face burst into a grin, and he met my eyes.
“You wore that for me.”
